“Never so much as noticed it,” said Darner,—“was so full of other matters. I suspect,” added he, in a lower tone,—“I suspect we are going out.”
“Out where?” asked Tony, with simplicity.
“Out of office, out of power,” replied the other, half testily; then added in a more conciliatory voice, “I 'll tell you why I think so. He began filling up all the things that are vacant. I have just named two colonial secretaries, a chief justice, an auditor-general, and an inspector of convicts. I thought of that for you, and handed him your letter; but before he broke the seal he had filled up the place.”
“So then he has read the letter?”
“Yes, he read it twice; and when I told him you were here in waiting, he said, 'Tell him not to go; I 'll see him.'”
The thought of presenting himself bodily before the great man made Tony feel nervous and uncomfortable; and after a few moments of fidgety uneasiness, he said, “What sort of person is he,—what is he like?”
“Well,” said Damer, who now stood over a basin, sponging his eye with cold water, “he's shy—very shy—but you 'd never guess it; for he has a bold, abrupt sort of way with him; and he constantly answers his own questions, and if the replies displease him, he grows irritable. You 've seen men like that?”
“I cannot say that I have.”
“Then it's downright impossible to say when he's in good humor with one, for he 'll stop short in a laugh and give you such a pull up!”
“That is dreadful!” exclaimed Tony.