‘And now, Dudgeon, to explain,’ I began. ‘I know your master, he knows me, and he knows and approves of my errand. So much I may tell you, that I am on my way to Amersham Place.’
‘I am heartily glad of it,’ said I, passing the bottle, ‘because that is about all I can tell you. You must take my word for the remainder. Either believe me or don’t. If you don’t, let’s take a chaise; you can carry me to-morrow to High Holborn, and confront me with Mr. Romaine; the result of which will be to set your mind at rest—and to make the holiest disorder in your master’s plans. If I judge you aright (for I find you a shrewd fellow), this will not be at all to your mind. You know what a subordinate gets by officiousness; if I can trust my memory, old Romaine has not at all the face that I should care to see in anger; and I venture to predict surprising results upon your weekly salary—if you are paid by the week, that is. In short, let me go free, and ’tis an end of the matter; take me to London, and ’tis only a beginning—and, by my opinion, a beginning of troubles. You can take your choice.’
‘And that is soon taken,’ said he. ‘Go to Amersham tomorrow, or go to the devil if you prefer—I wash my hands of you and the whole transaction. No, you don’t find me putting my head in between Romaine and a client! A good man of business, sir, but hard as millstone grit. I might get the sack, and I shouldn’t wonder! But, it’s a pity, too,’ he added, and sighed, shook his head, and took his glass off sadly.
‘That reminds me,’ said I. ‘I have a great curiosity, and you can satisfy it. Why were you so forward to meddle with poor Mr. Dubois? Why did you transfer your attentions to me? And generally, what induced you to make yourself such a nuisance?’
‘Why, sir,’ says he, ‘there is such a thing as patriotism, I hope.’
CHAPTER XVI—THE HOME-COMING OF MR. ROWLEY’S VISCOUNT
By eight the next morning Dudgeon and I had made our parting. By that time we had grown to be extremely familiar; and I would very willingly have kept him by me, and even carried him to Amersham Place. But it appeared he was due at the public-house where we had met, on some affairs of my great-uncle the Count, who had an outlying estate in that part of the shire. If Dudgeon had had his way the night before, I should have been arrested on my uncle’s land and by my uncle’s agent, a culmination of ill-luck.