And
you wore--"
"Annersley--Wood!" Sir Mortimer's careless, lounging air vanished,
and he stared at Barnabas with dilating eyes.
"And you wore, I remember, a bottle-green coat, which I had the
misfortune to tear, sir."
And here there fell a silence, once more, but ominous now, and full
of menace; a pregnant stillness, wherein the Viscount sat leaned
forward, his hands clutching his chair-arms, his gaze fixed upon
Barnabas; as for the Marquis, he had taken out his snuff-box and, in
his preoccupation, came very near inhaling a pinch; while Captain
Slingsby sat open-mouthed. Then, all at once, Sir Mortimer was on
his feet and had caught up a heavy riding-whip, and thus he and
Barnabas fronted each other, eye to eye,--each utterly still, yet
very much on the alert.
But now upon this tense silence came the soft, smooth tones of
Mr. Chichester:
"Pray, Mr. Beverley, may I speak a word with you--in private?"
"If the company will excuse us," Barnabas replied; whereupon
Mr. Chichester rose and led the way into the adjoining room,
and, closing the door, took a folded letter from his pocket.
"Sir," said he, "I would remind you that the last time we met,
you warned me,--indeed you have a weakness for warning people, it
seems,--you also threatened me that unless I agreed to--certain
conditions, you would dispossess me of my inheritance--"
"And I repeat it," said Barnabas.
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