“Look you here,” said Emile, stepping closer to her, with his face turning very dark, “you tell me where are zose bells, or I will make you do it.”
It was not easy to frighten Susan, but she may have thought this French fellow capable of any crime. After a moment’s reflection, she went into the dining-room and got a key. Then, saying to Emile, “If you must see everything, I suppose you must,” she led the way up-stairs. Opening the door of a large room at the very top of the house, she pointed to a row of greenish metal bells, which stood on the floor by one of the walls.
“Now you’ve seen them,” she said, “I hope you are satisfied.”
“No, I am not,” said Emile. “How do you get out on zis roof?”
“There’s a trap-door over there,” said Susan, “at the top of that flight of steps.”
Emile went up the steps, and opened the door. Then he came back.
“I am going to hang some of zose bells on ze roof,” he said. “I see ze little posts are zer yet.”
“Mr. Berkeley will not allow that; he took them down himself,” said Susan.
“Zat makes no difference to me,” remarked Emile. “I s’all hear zose angel bells again.”
And, picking up one of the bells, which, though large, was not very heavy, he carried it up the steps.