If he must suffer for his villainy, at least there would be
compensations.
The clock over the stables chimed the hour of eight. Master Lionel
shrank back in his chair at the sound. The thing would be doing even
now. In his mind he saw it all--saw his brother come running in his
eagerness to the gates of Godolphin Court, and then dark forms resolve
themselves from the surrounding darkness and fall silently upon him. He
saw him struggling a moment on the ground, then, bound hand and foot, a
gag thrust into his mouth, he beheld him in fancy borne swiftly down the
slope to the beach and so to the waiting boat.
Another half-hour sat he there. The thing was done by now, and this
assurance seemed to quiet him a little.
Then came Nicholas again to babble of some possible mischance having
overtaken his master.
"What mischance should have overtaken him?" growled Lionel, as if in
scorn of the idea.
"I pray none indeed," replied the servant. "But Sir Oliver lacks not
for enemies nowadays, and 'tis scarce zafe for he to be abroad after
dark."
Master Lionel dismissed the notion contemptuously. For pretence's sake
he announced that he would wait no longer, whereupon Nicholas brought in
his supper, and left him again to go and linger about the door, looking
out into the night and listening for his master's return. He paid a
visit to the stables, and knew that Sir Oliver had gone forth afoot.
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