“Oh, pray release me!” I said, “oh, let me go!” I gasped; for I thought he might not understand the first, these low men are so ignorant. “Pray go to Monsieur de Tiraille, and he will reward you.”
“That’s him as I ketched atop of the wall, I suppose,” said the creature. “My, how he did cut when I showed him the bull’s-eye! Thought it was a cracking case, my dear; but I’m up to a thing or two, and won’t split. But I say, my dear, how’s Ann? And so you took me for him, did you? Well, I ain’t surprised.”
And then if the wretch didn’t try to draw me nearer to him: but I started back, horrified.
“Well, just as you like, you know,” exclaimed the ruffian. “But, I say, you’ll let me drink your health, you know, won’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” I exclaimed, interpreting his speech into meaning “Give me a shilling,” which I did, and he loosed my arm.
“That’s right,” he said. “I thought you were a good sort. Feel better, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” I exclaimed. “Please let me go now.”
“Let you go,” he said; “to be sure. I was just going to offer you my advice, that you’d better step in before the old gal misses you. He won’t come again to-night now, I scared him too much; so ta-ta, my dear—I won’t spoil sport next time.”
And then, almost before the wretch’s words had left his lips, I fled, nor ceased running until I reached the side door, which I entered, closed, and fastened again; and then glided upstairs to my room, where Patty still snored and Clara watched; but my acts seemed all mechanical, and I can only well recollect one, and that was my throwing myself upon her breast, and bursting into tears.