"Hullo! Ain't you coming the mistress pretty free in this house?
Stand aside. I've got something to tell him—something that won't wait.
Stand aside, you she-cat!"
He pushed by her roughly, but she held on to his sleeve.
"It must wait. Listen to me."
"I won't."
"You shall. He's dead."
"Dead!" He reeled back to the table and poured out another glassful with a shaking hand. 'Lizabeth noticed that this time he added no water.
"He died to-night," she explained; "but he's been ailin' for a year past, an' took to his bed back in October."
William's face was still pallid; but he merely stammered—
"Things happen queerly. I'll go up and see him; I'm master here now. You can't say aught to that. By the Lord! but I can buy myself out—I'm sick of soldiering—and we'll settle down here and be comfortable."
"We?"