Trotter leaned forward, his face a study in emotions. Lady Jane uttered a soft little cry.
"Then,—then they haven't trumped up some rotten charge against me?"
"They? Charge? I say!" He bellowed the last to the supporters below. "Hold this bally thing steady, will you? Do you want me to break my neck?"
"Well, don't jiggle it like that," came the voice of Mr. Bramble from below. "We can't hold it steady if you're going to dance on it."
Mr. Chambers once more directed his remarks to Mr. Trotter.
"So far as I am aware, Lord Temple, there is no—er—charge against you. The only complaint I know of is that you haven't kept your grandfather informed as to your whereabouts. Naturally he is a bit annoyed about it. You see, if you had dropped him a line occasionally—"
"Get on, man,—get on," urged Trotter excitedly.
"He wouldn't have been put to the expense of having a man detached from Scotland Yard to look the world over for you. Personal influence did it, of course. He went direct to the chief and asked for the best man in the service. I happened to be on another case at the time," explained Mr. Chambers modestly, "but they took me off at once and started me out. I—"
"In a nutshell, you represent my grandfather and not the King of England," interrupted Trotter.
"On detached duty," said Mr. Chambers.
"And you do not intend to arrest him?" cried Lady Jane.
"Bless me, no!" exclaimed Mr. Chambers.
