"Don't remind me. God help me. Swear, woman, swear!" he said excitedly, "to stay by me to get me well; quick, for my inner consciousness tells me I shall be, nay am, ill; elucidate this mystery, is it money they want, how can I escape? swear, swear to stay by me in this place, smelling of brimstone. Swear!" he continued, forgetting time and place, as he raised his voice, only remembering his wretchedness.
"For heaven's sake try to calm yourself; they have heard you, they come; not a sound; they will turn me out, and you will have only them. I conjure you, curb yourself; not a sound." And taking both his hands to her knee, with motherly tenderness, seeks by gently stroking or holding them in hers to soothe him to even momentary calm.
"I say, Cole, are you sleeping?" said the voice of Stone, turning the handle. "You should have been down with us; we have been feeding like fighting cocks."
"I am sure I heard him talking," said Margaret. "Mean fellow he is; feigning sleep."
"Good night, Cole, or rather, morning; pleasant dreams," said Stone, malevolently.
"Look, uncle, at aunt rolling into her bed-chamber; veal pie and stout will be her nightmare. Good night, spouse," she said, through the keyhole.
At this, Sarah Kane had great difficulty in quieting him. "I kiss my hand to you"—for she is hilarious; a glass of beer, a change of name, three thousand per annum secured, have been a powerful stimulant.
"It's my belief he heard every word we said, but wouldn't give in," said her uncle, as they went along the hall.
"Of course, he did, the mean pup; but never fear, I'll make him knuckle under."
"That you will," he said, chuckling.