"
Lady Maxwell drew a quick hissing breath; her sister got up swiftly and
went to her, as she sat down in Sir Nicholas' chair, still holding the
old man's hand.
Sir Nicholas turned to his guest; and his voice broke again and again as
he spoke.
"Mr. Stewart," he said, "I am sorry that any guest of mine should be
subject to these insults. However, I am glad that I shall have the
pleasure of your company after all. I suppose we ride to East Grinsted,"
he added harshly to the magistrate, who bowed to him.--"Then may I have
my servant, sir?"
"Presently," said Mr. Frankland, and then turned to Anthony, who had been
staring wild-eyed at the scene, "Now who is this?"
A man answered from the rank.
"That is Master Anthony Norris, sir."
"Ah! and who is Master Anthony Norris? A Papist, too?"
"No, sir," said the man again, "a good Protestant; and the son of Mr.
Norris at the Dower House."
"Ah!" said the magistrate again, judicially. "And what might you be
wanting here, Master Anthony Norris?"
Anthony explained that he often came up in the evening, and that he
wanted nothing. The magistrate eyed him a moment or two.
"Well, I have nothing against you, young gentleman. But I cannot let you
go, till I am safely set out. You might rouse the village. Take him out
till we start," he added to the man who guarded him.
"Come this way, sir," said the officer; and Anthony presently found
himself sitting on the long oak bench that ran across the western end of
the hall, at the foot of the stairs, and just opposite the door of Sir
Nicholas' room where he had just witnessed that curious startling scene.
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