"They were secrets," said Lydia. "Come, let's walk along."
"No, no. I want you where I can look at you, so you won't do any romancing about that old enchantress. If you know so much, tell me one thing more. She's gone. She can't hurt you."
"What is it?" asked Lydia.
"What did she tell those fellows about me?"
"Andrea?"
"Andrea and his gang. To make them treat me like a Hindoo god. No, I'll tell you how they treated me. As savages treat the first white man they've ever seen till they find he's a rotten trader."
"Oh," said Lydia, "it can't do any harm to tell you that."
"Any harm? I ought to have known it from the first. Out with it."
"Well, she told them you had been in prison, and you were sent there by Weedon Moore and his party—"
"His party? What was that?"