“Oh, it’s you, Bill,” cried the latter; “why hasn’t Charlie come?”
“Could’nt—daren’t—that’s the reason. Well, I never expected to see a niece of mine in this position!” he added, emphasising the word “niece” emphatically.
“My dear uncle,” cried Laura, taking up the cue; “I hope you have not come here to upbraid me.”
“Far from it; I am here to see what can be done for you, my darling,” returned he, putting his arms round her neck and giving a loud smack or two with his lips to make believe that he was kissing her. This little ceremony over, he glanced through the chink in the door, and saw that the warder had withdrawn to the further end of the corridor.
“All right,” he said to Laura—“he’s out of earshot. Now let’s to business. Charlie can’t come, but I’m here instead—so fire away while we’ve got the opportunity.”
“You must not say a word to anyone about this unfortunate business.”
The gipsy nodded.
“And, above all, nothing to Gatliffe or Purvis.”
Another nod.
“Go to my house and tell the girl that I am detained in the country, and shall not return for a fortnight at the very least. I wish you could manage to take charge of the house during my absence. That would be a great relief to me.”