It was the first time such a thing had happened, and it seemed to Richard's master that the best way of meeting it would be to 'damn' the man and send him about his business.
But Richard did not go. He stood for an instant with his head thrown back, and the desperate look of an animal at bay in his eyes. At this critical moment a woman's form suddenly interposed itself between Mr. Paton and his victim. Amelia was there, looking like Amina after she had awoken from her trance. She came close to her master,—she had never addressed him before,—and raised her liquid eyes to his.
'You will not be hard on—my brother, sir, for the mistake I made last night?'
'Who said I was going to be hard on him?' retorted Mr. Paton, too much taken aback to find any more dignified form of rejoinder. 'And if he is your brother, why do you wait until it is dark to indulge in your family effusions?'
The question was accompanied by a through and through look, before which Amelia did not quail.
'Have I your permission to speak to him in the day-time, sir?' she said submissively.
'I will institute an inquiry,' interrupted her master. 'Here, go about your business,' he added, turning to Richard; 'fetch out the mare, and hand me back that note. I'll ride over with it myself.'
Three weeks later Richard Cole was a free man, and within four months from the date upon which Mr.
