Both pairs of eyes, the brown and the blue, avoided mine—in a studied effort, I fancied—when I glanced from one to the other to read further.
After all, I concluded, I was glad these two young ladies happened to be present.
"The object of my coming here last night," the young man at length began, "was known only to myself and Mr. Fluette, although I told Miss Fluette the bare circumstance of my intention. My mission would seem so absurd to any sane man, so utterly hopeless; it would be so impossible to bring any one else to look at the matter from my point of view, that my fear of ridicule stayed me from taking even her into my confidence. It was this."
His voice dropped, and he had every appearance of one who speaks with the utmost reluctance.
"I came to ask my uncle for the Paternoster ruby," he announced.
I merely waited, neither stirring nor speaking; not so the two girls, however, who made no pretence of concealing their amazement.
"You asked him to give it to you?" gasped Miss Fluette.
Maillot laughed bitterly, looking straight at me.
"I did," said he, as one convinced that he would not be believed in any event. "I not only asked him to give it to me—after having stated my reasons—but he promised to do so—this morning."
He seemed to measure our incredulity; to determine if its degree would warrant him in proceeding. My own countenance, I know, told him nothing; but it was obvious that the girls were assimilating his startling affirmations only with the greatest difficulty. I watched them curiously. They knew this young man perhaps better than any one else, and their fresh youthful faces were a clear index to their thoughts. Both were deeply troubled.