"Come out, Ned!" he shouted; "you'll have the game- keeper
putting a charge of shot into you. Come out, man, and don't
skulk behind the bushes."
It was not a very heroic situation for us. My poor friend rose
with a crimson face. I sprang to my feet also and bowed with
such dignity as I could muster.
"Halloa! it's the Frenchman, is it?" said he, without returning
my bow. "I've got a crow to pluck with him already. As to you,
Ned, I knew you would be hot on our scent, and so I was looking
out for you. I saw you cross the park and go to ground in the
shrubbery. Come in, man, and let us have all the cards on the
table."
He seemed master of the situation, this handsome giant of a man,
standing at his ease on his own ground while we slunk out of our
hiding-place. Lord Rufton had said not a word, but I saw by his
darkened brow and his sombre eyes that the storm was gathering.
Lord Dacre led the way into the house, and we followed close at
his heels.
He ushered us himself into an oak-panelled sitting-room, closing
the door behind us.
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