Dredlinton intercepted the look and shook his fist.
"You've been tampering with my servants, damn you!" he exclaimed.
"Well, they haven't been yours very long, have they?" Wingate
reminded him.
"So this is all part of a plot!" Dredlinton continued, with increasing
apprehension. "They are in your pay, are they? It was only this morning I
noticed all these new faces around me.--God help us!"
The words seemed to melt away from his lips. The door had been flung
open, and a queer little procession entered. First of all came Grant,
followed by a footman leading Peter Phipps by the arm. Phipps' hands were
tied together. A gag in the form of a respirator covered his mouth. Cords
which had apparently only just been unknotted were around each leg. He
had the expression, of a man completely dazed. After him came another of
the footmen leading Stanley Rees, who was in similar straits. The latter,
however, perhaps by reason of his longer detention, showed none of the
passivity of his companion. He struggled violently, even in the few yards
between the door and the centre of the room, Wingate motioned to a third
footman, who had followed behind.
"Pull out that round table," he directed. "Place three chairs around
it.--So!--Sit down, Phipps. Sit down, Rees."
They obeyed, Rees only after a further useless struggle.
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