“And beyond endurance,” Mr. Bowmore added. “Understand this, sir! Whatever your defense may be, I object, under any circumstances, to be made the victim of a trick.”
“You are the victim of your own obstinate refusal to profit by a plain warning,” Bervie rejoined. “At the eleventh hour, I entreated you, and I entreated Mr. Linwood, to provide for your own safety; and I spoke in vain.”
Percy’s patience gave way once more.
“To use your own language,” he said, “I have still to decide whether you have behaved toward me like a scoundrel or a friend. You have said nothing to justify yourself yet.”
“Very well put!” Mr. Bowmore chimed in. “Come to the point, sir! My daughter’s reputation is in question.”
“Miss Bowmore’s reputation is not in question for a single instant,” Bervie answered. “My sister has been the companion of her journey from first to last.”
“Journey?” Mr. Bowmore repeated, indignantly. “I want to know, sir, what the journey means. As an outraged father, I ask one plain question. Why did you run away with my daughter?”
Bervie took a slip of paper from his pocket, and handed it to Percy with a smile.
It was a copy of the warrant which Justice Bervie’s duty had compelled him to issue for the “arrest of Orlando Bowmore and Percy Linwood.” There was no danger in divulging the secret now. British warrants were waste-paper in France, in those days.
“I ran away with the bride,” Bervie said coolly, “in the certain knowledge that you and Mr. Bowmore would run after me. If I had not forced you both to follow me out of England on the first of April, you would have been made State prisoners on the second. What do you say to my conduct now?”