Gray deliberately turned up the cuffs of his coat, and said calmly,—
“I am going to strangle you, if you open your lips again.”
The corpulent lady held up her hands in mute supplication, and after a glance at her, and a contortion of his visage that nearly froze her blood. Jacob Gray crept from the room, and commenced descending the staircase.
He had not got half way down, when he heard some one coming up. He paused in very great trepidation and laid hold of the banisters to await the comer. His only chance now lay on his own firmness, and that was nearly deserting him.
It was a young lad of about seventeen or eighteen, who was coming up stairs, and when he saw Gray, he waited a step in surprise.
“Thomas,” said Gray, “I am Job Magnus—will you—”
Thomas did not stay to hear the remainder of what the apparition of the hanged man, as he fully believed Gray to be, had to say, but turned round, and made but one jump down the stairs again, never stopped till he was in the kitchen, where he upset Deborah and a tray with the breakfast things, just as she was emerging from the culinary department.
“So far successful,” muttered Gray, as he descended the remainder of the stairs, and then passed through the door which opened into a little parlour.
Hanging on a peg behind a door was a handsome cloak, and on another a hat, both of which Gray made no hesitation in borrowing for the occasion. Hastily attiring himself thus, he opened a small glass door, and passed into the shop.
There was a little girl in the shop, knocking perseveringly on the counter with the edge of a penny piece, and the moment Gray made his appearance she commenced,—