I marched him downstairs and along the passage. There was great risk of
being met by some one, and it was the most anxious time I had had since
the affair with the sergeant in the house-place at the Hanyards. Oddly
enough, as I drove him along, the thought came to me of the bygone days
when Jack and I had played horses just like this at the Hanyards, and when
my prisoner stuck a trifle at the door of the guest-room, I growled at
him, "Come up!" It was a strange trick of the mind. To me he was just
play-horse Jack dawdling to look at ten-year-old Kate feeding her
chickens.
I got him in unseen without and unnoticed within, for the Colonel and
Master Freake were again at their arguments of state, hammer and tongs,
and they minded the click of the door behind them no more than the crack
of a spark at their feet. Indeed the Colonel said "Pish!" with great
vehemence, and Master Freake's "My dear sir!" had a shake of pepper in it.
As for me, I like a man who, when he gets into a thing, gets into it up to
the neck.
Margaret added to my amusement, for as I pricked my prisoner on into the
fire-light, and peeped over his shoulder, he being a good six inches
shorter than I, madam leaned forward and became absorbed in the high
debate.
"I beg to report, sir," said I, as indifferently as I could manage to
speak, "the capture of a spy."
"Hang him at daybreak," said the Colonel, without so much as looking at
him. "Pish, man, the trade in salted herrings is no more a nursery of
seamen than I'm--Damme, what's this, Oliver? Damme, it's Weir. Your
servant, Mister Weir, and I shall vastly relish seeing you strung up."
I gave a brief account of where and how I had found him, making no
mention of our helpful girl friend, but pointing out that he had
co-scoundrels at work for him in the inn.
"Another good piece of work, Oliver," said the Colonel. "I like the way
you use your available material. I've seen many things used as gags, but
not a book before; yet it makes a very good one. Keeps him quiet as a
stone and withal leaves him free to lick up a few crumbs of learning."
Margaret had not looked at me yet, and indeed seemed bent on keeping her
face, heightened in colour by the warmth and glow of the fire, turned away
from me. Now a rather big matter had come into my mind, so I said
urgently, "Name of a dog," and thus shook her into looking at me.
Whereupon, I pointed first to Mr. Freake, then to the spy, and wagged my
head sagely. Her quick mind saw at once that I was afraid that our friend
would be compromised if we were not careful. She promptly said something
to her father in an unknown tongue, and by the cock of his eye I knew he'd
taken the point.
"My good friend," he said, "pray step over to his worship the Mayor and
ask him to come over and commit this rascally spy to the town jail. Say, I
beg, that I am grieved to have to disturb him, but His Majesty's servants
must ever be at the disposal of His Majesty's affairs."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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