Belasez strained her ears to their utmost, but the words which followed could not be heard from her mother’s dropped tones.
“What would follow—eh?” demanded Licorice, raising her voice again.
“Adonai knows!” said Abraham, sadly. “But I suppose we could not keep her long.”
“I should think not! Thou canst go and tell the Mayor, and see what he and his catch-polls will say. Wouldn’t there be a pretty ferment? Old man, it would cost thee thy life, and mine also. Give over talking about lies as if thou wert one of the cherubim (I’ll let thee know when I think there’s any danger of it), and show a little spice of prudence, like a craftsman of middle earth as thou art. More deception! Of course there is more deception. A man had better keep off a slide to begin with, it he does not want to be carried down it.”
“The child fancies, Licorice, that Anegay was her sister, and that she either became a Christian or married one. She has no idea of any thing more.”
“Who told her Anegay’s name?”
“I cannot imagine. It might be Bruno.”
“We have always been so careful to keep it from her hearing.”
There was a pause.
“Didst thou find the Christian dog had tampered with her faith?”