“Never was there such a rascal?” cried Colonel Oxburgh, furiously. “Well, do the best you can,” he added, to his followers. “Put up the horses, and then come to the house.”
“To prevent disappointment,” said Bancroft, with a malicious grin, “I had better mention beforehand that they will find no provisions.”
“No provisions!” exclaimed the colonel, while the troopers who were within hearing looked aghast:
“The larder's empty, sir, I'm sorry to say,” pursued the steward; “and what's worse, there's not a bottle of wine in the cellar.”
Murmurs and threats arose from the men.
“If your master acts thus, he must take the consequences,” observed Colonel Oxburgh. “He deserves the bad character he has acquired.”
The steward did not like the tone in which the remark was made, and looked as if he would be glad to escape, but this being impossible, he asked Colonel Oxburgh into the house.
As he entered the hall with his men, Colonel Oxburgh Stopped him, and said:
“A word with you, Mr. Bancroft. You say there are no provisions in the house—no food for the horses in the stables.”
“I do, colonel,” replied the other.