‘If you value your life,’ said Nella calmly, and with the words she pulled from her pocket a very neat and dainty little revolver.
Chapter Nine TWO WOMEN AND THE REVOLVER
‘YOU—you’re only doing that to frighten me,’ stammered Miss Spencer, in a low, quavering voice.
‘Am I?’ Nella replied, as firmly as she could, though her hand shook violently with excitement, could Miss Spencer but have observed it. ‘Am I? You said just now that I might be a Yankee girl, but I was a fool. Well, I am a Yankee girl, as you call it; and in my country, if they don’t teach revolver-shooting in boarding-schools, there are at least a lot of girls who can handle a revolver. I happen to be one of them. I tell you that if you ring that bell you will suffer.’
Most of this was simple bluff on Nella’s part, and she trembled lest Miss Spencer should perceive that it was simple bluff. Happily for her, Miss Spencer belonged to that order of women who have every sort of courage except physical courage. Miss Spencer could have withstood successfully any moral trial, but persuade her that her skin was in danger, and she would succumb. Nella at once divined this useful fact, and proceeded accordingly, hiding the strangeness of her own sensations as well as she could.
‘You had better sit down now,’ said Nella, ‘and I will ask you a few questions.’
And Miss Spencer obediently sat down, rather white, and trying to screw her lips into a formal smile.
‘Why did you leave the Grand Babylon that night?’ Nella began her examination, putting on a stern, barrister-like expression.
‘I had orders to, Miss Racksole.’