The flats changed; the look of bewilderment gave place to one of injured innocence—an appeal against manifest injustice. It was really artistically done.
"I am sorry, sir, that you should think I want a bribe to serve you or Mr. Livingstone. It is quite out of my power now. I don't know what you refer to."
"I have no time to bargain," Ralph growled, and his eyes began to glisten ominously. "Name your price, and have done with it."
Finale and Grand Tableau—virtuous indignation—the faithful servant asserting his dignity as a man. There was a hitch here somewhere; the scene-shifter was hardly up to his work, so that it was rather a failure.
"I have told you twice, sir, that I do not know any thing about it. I beg you will not insult me with more questions. You have no right to do so; I am neither in your service nor Mr. Livingstone's now."
Mohun bent his bushy brows in some perplexity. After all, he had not a shadow of proof, though he felt a moral certainty. His sheet-anchor was the avarice of the scoundrel he was dealing with, and this seemed to fail. Evidently a strong counter-influence had been at work.
"Curse her!" he muttered between his clenched teeth, "she has been here before me."
Then he looked up suddenly, and what he saw caused the shallow cup of his patience at once to overflow.
In Willis's eyes was an ill-repressed twinkle of exultation and amusement, and on his thin lips the dawning of an actual sneer. It was but seldom the trained satellite allowed himself the luxury of betraying any natural feeling. In truth, he chose his time badly for its exhibition now. Before he could collect himself so as to utter a cry, he lay upon his back on the carpet, a heavy foot on his chest; and the colonel was gazing down on him with a fell murderous expression, that made the victim's blood run cold.
"By G—d!" Mohun said, in the smothered tones of concentrated passion, "if you trifle with me ten seconds longer—if you open your lips except to answer my question, I'll crush your breast-bone in."