When cornered, Wake had denied all knowledge of gunpowder, whether in cartridges or bulk. But Meg and Piers, searching his little desk, had come upon the neat little packets, all ready to sell, with a box full of coppers, and even a carefully written account of sales and payments. It was serious. Meg said he must be whipped. The young Whiteoaks had set no high standard of morality for a little brother to live up to, but still this was too bad.
"Flog him well," said Gran. "The Courts stole, but they never lied about it."
"The Whiteoaks," said Nicholas, "often lied, but they never stole."
Ernest murmured: "Wakefield seems to combine the vices of both sides."
"He's a little rotter," said Piers, "and it's got to be taken out of him."
Alayne was aghast at the thought of the airy and gentle Wake being subjected to the indignity of physical punishment. "Oh, couldn't he please get off this time?" she begged. "I'm sure he'll never do such a thing again."
Piers gave a short scornful laugh. "The trouble with that kid is he's been utterly ruined. If you'll let me attend to him, I'll wager he doesn't pinch anything more."
"I strongly disapprove of a delicate child like Wakefield being made to suffer," said Lady Buckley.
The culprit, listening in the hall, put his head between the curtains at this and showed his little white, tear-stained face.
"Go away, sir," said Nicholas. "We're discussing you."
"Please, please—"
Renny, who had been captured for the conclave and
