“We are glad to see you, at any rate, neighbor,” said the kind-hearted squire.
“Thanky’! I’m glad to see you, squire, though I wish I had come on more pleasanter business,” replied the old lady, as she waddled toward the house.
“I hope nothing has gone amiss with you,” said Mr. Force, whom recent events had made somewhat apprehensive.
“Well, not gone amiss, exactly; but going amiss, I tell you all good, unless it is put a stop to! And, Parson Peters, I’m mighty glad to fall in long o’ you here! I think it is downright providential—that I do! Because your counsel may be of great vally in this case. ‘Two heads is better than one,’ sez I, even if one is a cabbage head, sez I.”
By this time they had entered the house, and Mr. Force was about to open the parlor door to admit the visitor to the presence of his wife, but she stopped him, hastily, nervously saying:
“No, no, not in there, on no account! This ain’t no news for ladies’ ears, and I don’t want to send none of them into hysterick fits! Let me go into your office, where you do business.”
“What is the nature of your business?” anxiously inquired Mr. Force, as he led the way to the rear of the house.
“Life or death! Murder and hanging, for aught I know! And that’s the last word I’m a-going to speak till we get inside o’ your office, and lock the door after us.”
In great anxiety—for his suspicions immediately flew to Leonidas and Anglesea—Mr. Force led the way into his sanctum, secured it against intrusion, and seated his guests, and awaited the further communication of the last comer. What would it be? Had Leonidas made a fatal assault upon Anglesea? Had Miss Bayard learned the fact through Le’s bosom friend, Roland Bayard?
Miss Sibby seemed in no hurry to communicate her business.