"
"Told that my father had turned traitor! Is that what you mean, sir?"
Scorn too great for anger covered her face, veiling its sweetness as with
a fiery cloud.
"That is the plain English of what I was told, I must admit." Here was
the grave, businesslike nature of the man, plainly posing awkward
questions that had to be answered.
"It's a wicked lie!" she burst out. She turned her face proudly to look
into mine, and I saw that her eyes were filled with tears.
"Naturally, madam," said I.
"My father's honour is mine, Master Wheatman, and I am your debtor for
another splendid courtesy."
"I argue from the flower to the tree. Man's logic, and therefore
necessarily imperfect, you would say, but for once I stick to it." I spoke
lightly and reminiscently, so as to chase the gloom from her mind, and she
was immediately herself again.
Master Freake continued his story, which went from bad to worse. As I had
expected, Bladderface had ridden into Stone, and the result of his
communication to Captain Rigby had been that orders were issued for our
pursuit, and Master Freake had left the town not very far in advance of
the squad of horse sent on our track.
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