"And you hope there never will be again, eh? What of Dick? Is he faithful to the Pretender?”
“I think Mr. Richard does not interest himself in politics, sir.”
Carstares raised his eyebrows, and there fell a silence.
After a minute or two Mr. Warburton cleared his throat.
“I—I suppose, sir—you have no idea of—er—discontinuing your—er—profession?”
My lord gave an irrepressible little laugh.
“Faith, Mr. Warburton, I’ve only just begun!”
“Only——— But a year ago, Mr. Richard———”
“I held him up? Ay, but to tell the truth, sir, I’ve not done much since then!”
“Then, sir, you are not—er—notorious?”
“Good gad, no! Notorious, forsooth! Confess, Warburton, you thought me some heroic figure? ‘Gentleman Harry,’ perhaps?”
Warburton blushed.
“Well, sir——— I—er—wondered.”
“I shall have to disappoint you, I perceive. I doubt Bow Street has never heard of me—and—to tell the truth—’tis not an occupation which appeals vastly to my senses.”
“Then why, my lord, do you continue?”
“I must have some excuse for roaming the country,” pleaded Jack. “I could not be idle.”
“You are not—compelled to—er—rob, my lord?”
Carstares wrinkled his brow inquiringly.
“Compelled ? Ah—I take your meaning. No, Warburton, I have enough for my wants—now; time was—but that is past. I rob for amusement’s sake.”
Warburton looked steadily across at him.
“I am surprised, my lord, that you, a Carstares, should find it—amusing.”
John was silent for a moment, and when he at length spoke it was defiantly and with a bitterness most unusual in him.
