'But yet surely that public scene--' I began.
'It was madness. I quite agree with you,' Mr. Romaine interrupted.
'But it was your uncle's orders, Mr. Anne, and what could I do?
Tell him you were the murderer of Goguelat? I think not.'
'No, sure!' said I. 'That would but have been to make the trouble
thicker. We were certainly in a very ill posture.'
'You do not yet appreciate how grave it was,' he replied. 'It was
necessary for you that your cousin should go, and go at once. You
yourself had to leave to-night under cover of darkness, and how
could you have done that with the Viscount in the next room? He
must go, then; he must leave without delay. And that was the
difficulty.'
'Pardon me, Mr. Romaine, but could not my uncle have bidden him
go?' I asked.
'Why, I see I must tell you that this is not so simple as it
sounds,' he replied. 'You say this is your uncle's house, and so
it is. But to all effects and purposes it is your cousin's also.
He has rooms here; has had them coming on for thirty years now, and
they are filled with a prodigious accumulation of trash--stays, I
dare say, and powder-puffs, and such effeminate idiocy--to which
none could dispute his title, even suppose any one wanted to. We
had a perfect right to bid him go, and he had a perfect right to
reply, "Yes, I will go, but not without my stays and cravats.
Pages:
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268