In Clive's Command - A Story of the Fight for India by Herbert Strang
page 55 of 495 (11%)
page 55 of 495 (11%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
stammered. "We can't find him."
"Ah! 'Twas you gave the alarm. Good boy; zeal, excellent; but a little mistake; yes, Grinsell explained; a mistake, Desmond." The squire spoke hurriedly, disconnectedly, with an embarrassment even greater than Desmond's. "But, sir," the boy began, "I saw--" "Yes, yes," interrupted the old man. "I know all about it. But Grinsell's explanation--yes, I know all about it. I am obliged to you, Desmond; but I am satisfied with Grinsell's explanation; I shall go no further in the matter." He groaned and put his hand to his head. "Are you ill, Sir Willoughby?" asked Desmond anxiously. The squire looked up; his face was an image of distress. He was silent for a moment; then said slowly: "Sick at heart, Desmond, sick at heart. I am an old man--an old man." Desmond was uncomfortable. He had never seen the squire in such a mood, and had a healthy boy's natural uneasiness at any display of feeling. "You see that portrait?" the squire went on, pointing wearily with his stick at the head of a young man done in oils. "The son of my oldest friend--my dear old friend Merriman. I never told you of him. Nine years |
|