Part 14 (1/2)
”Now, see here!” I broke forth fiercely. ”Have done with your play. You are no soldier; I doubt if you were ever on a horse's back until to-night. And those fellows with you are not Queen's Rangers, I'll swear.”
”How do you know, sir?” he interrupted gently. ”Are you in the army, sir?”
”Of course I am,” I cried, answering without consideration.
”I thought so, sir; although your clothes do not proclaim the fact. May I ask which army?”
He had turned the tables most neatly, and I glanced down over my rough garments, awakening suddenly to the knowledge that I was also in masquerade. To be sure I had one advantage--I knew these men had been part of Delavan's foragers, and hence at heart must be loyalists.
”That is not a question I intend answering to every ruffian who stops me on the highway,” I returned shortly. ”I wish to know what this outrage means? I will know, you wooden-headed image! I was about my business when the four of you attacked me. I wasn't the man you were after at all, and yet I am held prisoner, shut up here behind iron bars. What is this place, anyhow?”
”It is called 'Elmhurst,' sir.”
”Elmhurst? A country estate?”
”Yes, sir, one of the old plantations.”
”It's a name I never heard. Where is that precious lieutenant?”
”I presume he is in bed, sir,” and Peter rose quietly to his feet, and began replacing the dishes on his tray. Apparently there was not a nervous throb to his pulse, and he remained blissfully indifferent to my presence. I stared helplessly at him, even words failing me.
”You refuse to inform me as to the truth of this affair?” I faltered at last, as he lifted his burden on one arm. He turned a stolid face my way.
”It would seem so, sir. I have to thank you for a most delightful evening, sir. Your conversation has been both instructive and entertaining. However, sir, the hour is now late, and I should advise your retiring.”
He bowed solemnly, backing toward the door, and I sprang to my feet, overtaken by a sudden determination to make a break for freedom. There was a slight glitter in Peter's gray eyes, as he rapped sharply with his heel on the wood.
”I hardly think that would be advisable, sir,” he warned softly. ”The man outside is armed, and in the excitement might hurt you.”
There was a click of the lock, and the heavy door swung open. I stood motionless, tempted to spring, yet not daring the venture. Peter backed majestically out, and I caught a glimpse of the graybeard, and the black outline of a pistol. Then the door closed, leaving me alone. The little sc.r.a.p of candle left sputtered feebly, and, after walking across the floor a half-dozen times, striving to gain control of my temper, I blew it out, and crawled into the bunk. There was nothing I could do, but wait for morning; not a sound reached me from without, and, before I realized the possibility, I was fast asleep.
I must have slept long and soundly, for when I finally awoke a gleam of sun lay the full length of the room, and food was upon the table. Some one--Peter, no doubt--had entered and departed without arousing me. Well, it was apparent there was no intention of ill-treating me beyond the restraint of imprisonment, for the breakfast served was ample and well cooked. Sleep had left me in a pleasanter frame of mind, and I ate heartily, wondering vaguely what the day would disclose. I determined one thing, that when Peter returned for the dishes, I would back him into a corner and choke at least a portion of the truth out of his unwilling throat. I had hardly reached this decision when the door opened, and he stood there gazing at me with sphinx-like stupidity. I arose to my feet, gripping the back of a chair, but the utter vacancy in that face seemed to numb action. There was no positive expression, no dim glimmer of interest in his features; the s.h.i.+ning bald head alone gave him a grotesque appearance, restraining me from violence. I could as easily have warred with a baby.
”I trust, sir, you slept well,” he said soothingly, ”and that the service is satisfactory.”
I choked back my indignation, the quiet deference of his manner causing me to feel like a brute.
”Nothing could be added to my happiness,” I answered, ”unless it might be a little information which you seem disinclined to furnish.”
He waved one hand, as though brus.h.i.+ng calmly aside some imagined insect.
”Disinclined? Oh, no, sir; there is nothing to conceal, sir, I a.s.sure you.”
”Then, for G.o.d's sake, let it out of your system, man!” I burst forth impatiently. ”Whom am I a prisoner to? What am I held for? What sort of treatment is this I am receiving?”
Peter bowed, without the tremor of an eyelash.
”Do not mention it, sir,” he murmured smoothly; ”we are only too proud to have you as our guest at Elmhurst. It has been very quiet here now for some weeks, sir, and your coming was welcome to us all.”
I could only stare at the fellow with open mouth, so dumbfounded as to be speechless. Of all the idiots I had ever met he was the worst, or else his acting was magnificent. To save me I was not certain which might be the correct guess. He continued in stately solemnity.