"I have nothing to give you, Annette. I am very, very poor."
"You have given me a star of hope, Basil. How sorry I am that you are poor! But my nurse, who has been sent away----"
"Have they done that, Annette?"
"Yes, and she cried so at leaving me. She told me that one day I should be very, very rich. So what does it matter if you are poor? Let me fasten it round your neck. Now you have me and my dear mother next your heart."
He took the innocent child in his arms, and she lay nestling there a few moments with bright thoughts of the happy future in her mind. Suddenly a loud "Coo-ey" was heard and the sound of hurried footsteps. It was Old Corrie's voice that gave the alarm. It was intended as such, for when Basil started to his feet and stood with his arm round Annette, holding her close to him, he looked up, and saw Gilbert Bidaud standing before him.
[CHAPTER XVII.]
A malicious smile played about the old man's lips as he glanced at Basil and Annette. For a few moments he did not speak, but stood enjoying the situation, feeling himself master of it; and when he broke the silence his voice was smooth and suave. The malignancy of his feelings was to be found in his words, not in the tone in which he uttered them.
"Ah, Mr. Basil Whittingham once more? Mr. Basil Whittingham, the English gentleman, ready at a moment's notice to give lessons in manners, conduct, and good breeding. But then it is to proclaim oneself a fool to take a man at his own estimate of himself. I find you here in the company of my niece. Favour me with an explanation, Mr. Basil Whittingham."
"There is nothing to explain," said Basil, still with his arm round Annette. "I have been absent some time, and happening, fortunately, to return before Miss Bidaud left the country, have met her here, and was exchanging a few words of farewell."
"Of course, of course. Who would venture to dispute with so reproachless a gentleman? Who would venture to whisper that in these last few words of farewell there was any attempt to work upon a child's feelings, and to make the spurious metal of self-interest shine like purest gold? On one side a young girl, as yet a mere child, whose feelings are easily worked upon; on the other side a grown man versed in the cunning of the world, and using it with a keen eye to profitable use in the future. Not quite an equal match, it appears to me, but I may be no judge. If I were to hint that this meeting between you and my dear niece and ward has anything of a clandestine nature in it, you would probably treat me to a display of indignant fireworks. If I were to hint that, instead of so advising this child that she should hold out her arms gladly to the new life into which she is about to enter, you were instilling into her a feeling of repugnance against it, and of mistrust against those whose duty it will be to guide her aright and teach her--principles"--his eyes twinkled with malignant humour as he spoke this word--"you, English gentleman that you are, would repudiate the insinuation with lofty scorn. But when you exchange confidences with me you are in the presence of a man who has also seen something of the world, and who, although it has dealt him hard buffets, retains some old-fashioned notions of honour and manliness. I apply the test to you, adventurer, and you become instantly exposed. Ah! here is my sister, this sweet young child's aunt, who will relieve you of your burden."