“It wasn't for that creature!” exclaimed Peg. She seemed to scorn me for a dullard. “No; it was for you. I would not have such a memory—you, punishing an unresisting beast!”
We were for a second time on our way, Peg now holding my arm with her two hands and laying her cheek against it like a child. I could tell by that how this bushwhacking rogue had fluttered her not a little. At last she lifted her face, and I could, even in the pitch darkness, catch the deep glow of her eyes.
“And after all, for what should you think he spied upon us? What should he hope to find?”
“Indeed, that is beyond me,” I replied.
“But the very wicked are often very foolish too.”
“To follow so right a character as yourself, watch-dog, is for a spy to waste his strength.” Peg spoke in a droll way of laughter.
“Why, then, I may say I emulate the virtuous Drusus, who commanded the architect to so build his house that all who would might behold every act of his life.” I must tell you I had studied the classics in my youth, and would like at times to flourish with a scrap or two. I was no pedant to show off my learning, only a tag or two from Ovid or Horace on occasion, and just enough to suggest what a deal I had forgot.
“And your Drusus would so live as to hide nothing.” Peg was still stifling a laugh. “How very admirable! And what was the end of your memorable Drusus?”
“As to that,” I retorted, puzzled and put about by the satirical toss she gave to her queries, “as to that, I believe the people stoned him to death.”
“Ah, the poor people! His awful goodness, I suppose, drove them to frenzy.” Peg's voice was mocking sympathy. Then, with a great abruptness of anger, and throwing away my arm: “Do you know what I think of your precious Drusus? I think he was a hypocrite, and a canting prig who earned his fate; and if he have followers they should taste the same destiny for a sniveling conceit that teaches them a holiness above their neighbors.” This Peg flung at me like a spoiled child; and then, stepping smartly, she went on alone, I following in silence a yard or more to the rear.