II.
With eyes that goggled tremendously Bill stared at it; with a finger that shook he pointed at it; turned his head to George. “George,” he asked, “whose cat is that?”
George looked at Mary; gave a bitter little laugh. “I suppose it's ours,” he replied. “Eh, Mary?”
A sad little smile his Mary gave, “I suppose it is,” she agreed.
From one to the other Bill looked, suspicion in those goggling eyes.
“You suppose it is?” he emphasised. Again he swiftly looked from George to Mary; again stared at the splendid orange form. “George,” he said sharply—“George, what is that cat's name?”
George regarded him with a whimsical smile. “Bill, you old duffer, you don't think it's the Rose, do you?”
Yet more sharply than before Bill spoke. “George, is that cat's name Abishag?”
“Abishag? What an awful—”
Bill turned from him with an impatient gesture. He called to the cat, “Abishag! Abishag!”
With upreared tail the fine creature trotted to him.
“Good Lord!” George broke out. “Is that your cat, Bill?”
Bill turned upon him. “My cat! You know thundering well it's not my cat.”
“But it knows you, Mr. Wyvern,” Mary told him wonderingly.
There was sorrow, a look of pity in this young man's eyes as reproachfully he regarded my Mary.
He swung round upon George. “George, you've made a fool of me once—”
“I don't know what on earth's the matter with you,” George told him.
With knitted brows Bill for a moment searched his face. “I ask you point-blank,” he said slowly. “Did you steal this cat, George?”
George struck the stern young man upon the back. “Is that what you're driving at, you old ass? Stole it! D'you suppose I'll ever touch a cat again? That's the infernal cat Mrs. Major left in that hut when she hooked off the Rose. Marrapit told you, didn't he?”
Into a chair Bill collapsed—legs thrust straight before him, head against the cushioned back. He gasped. “George, this is a licker, a fair licker.” Enormously this staggered man swelled as he inhaled a tremendous breath; upon a vast sigh he let it go. “That cat—” he said. He got to his legs and paced the room; astonished, Mary and George regarded him. “That cat—I'll bet my life that's the cat!”