"Miss Abbeway," he protested, "is inclined to be melodramatic.
The gas which Bright has in that cylinder is simply one which
would produce a little temporary unconsciousness. We might have
used it--we may still use it--but if you others are able to
persuade Mr. Orden to restore the packet, our task with him is at
an end. We are not his gaolers--or perhaps he would say his
torturers--for pleasure. The Council has ordered that we should
extort from him the papers you know of and has given us carte
blanche as to the means. If you others can persuade him to
restore them peaceably, why, do it. We are prepared to wait."
Julian was still staring from one to the other of his visitors.
His expression of blank astonishment had scarcely decreased.
"Bishop," he said at last, "unless you want to see me go insane
before your eyes, please explain. It can't be possible that you
have anything in common with this nest of conspirators."
The Bishop smiled a little wanly. He laid his hand upon his
godson's shoulder.
"Believe me, I have been no party to your incarceration, Julian,",
he declared, "but if you will listen to me, I will tell you why I
think it would be better for you to restore that packet to Miss
Abbeway:"
"Tell that blackguard to give me another sniff of his restorative
gas," Julian begged. "These shocks are almost too much for me."
The Bishop turned interrogatively towards Bright, who once more
leaned over Julian with the tube in his hand.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168