“If she remain here after noon, to-morrow,” said Kraus, in a low voice, “a new month will have begun.”
“To-morrow afternoon; Lord! how close he r-ran it,” exclaimed Purvis.
“Once more, I say, be patient,” said Hans. “Let these good people go, you shall lose nothing; I pledge the word of a man who never told a falsehood. I will pay all. Have some pity, however, for this orphan,—one who has now neither a home nor a country.”
“Yes, yes, he 'll have p-pity; he 's an excellent man is Mr. Kraus. I shouldn't wonder if we'd come to terms about this vi-villa for ourselves.”
Hans turned a look of anger towards him, and then said: “Go, sir, and take those that belong to you away also. This place no longer can suit you nor them. He who lies yonder can be flattered and fawned on no more; and, as for her, she is above your compassion, if it even lay in your heart to offer it.”
“He ain't quite right here,” whispered Purvis to Kraus, as he tapped his forehead significantly. “They told me that in the town.” Kraus moved away without reply, and Purvis followed him. “He's rich, too, they say,” added he, in a whisper.
“They'll scarcely say as much this day week,” said Kraus, sneeringly; while, beckoning his people to follow him, he left the house.
No sooner did Mrs. Ricketts learn that her worldly possessions were safe, and that the harpy clutches of the law could make no seizure among those curious turbans and wonderful tunics which composed her wardrobe, than she immediately addressed herself to the active duties of the hour with a mind at ease, and, while packing her trunks, inadvertently stowed away such little stray articles as might not be immediately missed, and might serve hereafter to recall thoughts of “poor dear Miss Dalton,” for so she now preferred to name her.
“Those little box figures, Martha, don't forget them. They of course don't belong to the house; and Scroope suspects that the bracket for the hall lamp must have been her carving also.”
“I 've p-put away two pencil drawings marked 'N. D.,' and a little sketch in oil of the Alten Schloss; and I 've my pockets stuffed with the tulip roots.”