If young Heathcote--no, he was bound to look after Heathcote.
So, to the amazement and consternation of the Den, after loafing about at the door for ten minutes, Dick strolled into the Hall, and made his way up to the platform.
One or two, including Coote, followed him immediately.

Others remained long enough to put on their cuffs and chokers, and then followed suit.
One or two looked at the door, and went back again, and a few talked about treason and Rule 5.
Heathcote alone was aghast and dumbfounded.

For he had never seriously calculated on his leader's decision; and, being himself under vow not to present himself, his dilemma was terrible.
Perjury or treason?
That was the problem he had to decide at half a minute's notice, and it was no joke.
As he watched Dick slowly advance up the room, dogged by the faithful Coote and supported by a bodyguard of loyal followers, his courage failed, and he could hardly restrain himself from rushing after him.
And yet, the memory of his promise to the "Select Sociables," and the vision of Braider watching him from a distance, held him where he was.
How he wished he could have a fit, or break his arm, or have his nose bleed; anything to get him out of this hobble! But no.

He saw Dick ascend the dais and shake hands with the Captain, who looked almost amiable as he spoke a few words to him.

He saw Pauncefote and Smith and the other, loyal ones come in for the same greeting.