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Updated: May 11, 2025
"Not quite," put in Mr. Wilding. "Mr. Westmacott, I think, was constrained away. He did not intend..." "Tais-toi!" blazed Feversham. "Did I interrogate you? It is for Mistaire Westercott to answer." He set a hand on the table and leaned forward towards Wilding, his face very malign. "You shall to answer for yourself, Mistaire Wildin'; I promise you you shall to answer for yourself."
Wentworth turned and went out again to execute the General's orders. Feversham spoke to Richard. "We are oblige', Mr. Westercott," said he. "We are ver' much oblige'." Suddenly from a little distance came the roll of drums. Other sounds began to stir in the night outside to tell of a waking army. Feversham stood listening. "It is Dunbarton's," he murmured.
But if not..." "Oh, it's true enough," broke in Wilding, and his voice was like a groan, his face overcharged with gloom. Feversham looked at him; his sneering smile returned. "Me, I not remember," said he, "that Mr. Westercott 'ave include you in t'e bargain." Nothing had been further from Wilding's thoughts than such a suggestion. And he snorted his disdain.
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