Part 73 (1/2)

A little thrill ran through the man who sat in the chair; the lethargy began to clear from his brain, like a morning mist when a breeze rises; he sat a little more upright and gripped the arms of his chair; he said nothing yet, but he felt power and resource flowing back to his brain, and the pulse in his temples quieted. Why, if the lad had not been taken yet, he must surely be out of the house.

”I trust there is no mistake,” said the magistrate again nervously.

”You may well trust so,” said the other; ”it will be a grievous thing for you, sir, otherwise.”

”Indeed, Mr. Buxton, I think you know I am no bigot. I was sent for by Mr. Lackington last night. I could not refuse. It was not my wish----”

”Yet you have issued your warrant, and are here in person to execute it.

May I inquire how many of my cupboards you have broken into? And I hope your men are satisfied with my plate.”

”Indeed, sir,” said the magistrate, ”there has been nothing of that kind.

And as for the cupboards, there were but three----”

Three!--then the lad is out of the house, thought the other. But where?

”And I trust you have not spared to break down my servants' rooms, and the stables as well as pierce all my panelling.”

”There was no need to search the stables, Mr. Buxton; our men were round the house before we entered. They have been watching the entrances since eight o'clock last night.”

Mr. Buxton felt bewildered. His instinct had been right, then, the night before.

”The party was followed from near Wrotham,” went on the magistrate. ”The priest was with them then; and, we suppose, entered the house.”

”You suppose!” snapped the other. ”What the devil do you mean by supposing? You have looked everywhere and cannot find him?”

The magistrate shrugged his shoulders deprecatingly, as he stood and stared at the angry man.

”And the roofs?” added Mr. Buxton sneeringly.

”They have been thoroughly searched.”

Then there is but one possible theory, he reflected. The lad is in the garden-house. And what if they search that?

”Then may I ask what you propose to destroy next, Mr. Graves?”

He saw that this tone was having its effect on the magistrate, who was but a half-hearted persecutor, with but feeble convictions and will, as he knew of old.

”I--I entreat you not to speak to me like that, sir,” he said. ”I have but done my duty.”

Then the other rose from his chair, and his eyes were stern and bright again and his lips tight.

”Your duty, sir, seems a strange matter, when it leads you to break into a friend's house, a.s.sault him and his servants and his guests, and destroy his furniture, in search of a supposed priest whom you have never even seen. Now, sir, if this matter comes to her Grace's ears, I will not answer for the consequences; for you know Mistress Corbet, her lady-in-waiting, is one of my guests.--And, speaking of that, where are my guests?”

”The two ladies, Mr. Buxton, are safe and sound upstairs, I a.s.sure you.”

The magistrate's voice was trembling.

”Well, sir, I have one condition to offer you. Either you and your men withdraw within half an hour from my house and grounds, and leave me and my two guests to ourselves, or else I lay the whole matter, through Mistress Corbet, before her Grace.” Mr. Buxton beat his hand once on the table as he ended, and looked with a contemptuous inquiry at the magistrate.

But the worm writhed up at the heel.