“Return with me,” cried Roger; and taking him up into his large room under the eaves, Roger poured out the whole story of Bess Lukens.
Berwick laughed a little. Roger’s chagrin was comical; and when Berwick asked him the point-blank question, “Now, since you say the girl is good and honest and beautiful, and yet you are not in love with her, can you tell me whether she is in love with you, or not?” Roger changed countenance so quickly that Berwick laughed aloud.
“I swear,” cried Roger, “I never knew—I never asked. Hang it, man, the devil take you and your questions.” Berwick laughed more than ever at this.
“Come,” said he, “let us consult our good friend Madame Michot. I am but mortal, and I know not how to advise a man concerning a handsome girl whom he has seen daily for three years, who, he declares, has been his best friend, and he does not know whether she is in love with him or not!”
So they put out in search of Madame Michot, whom they found in her usual place on the platform, with the lights from the common room shining through the iron grille, and making fantastic shadows on the table before her.
“Madam,” said Berwick, in his most seductive voice, and with his finest bow, “we have come to you as our help in time of trouble;” and then, seating himself close to Madame Michot, on the right, while Roger planted himself on the step at her feet, these two artful creatures told the good woman all they thought it expedient for her to know concerning Red Bess,—not mentioning, as Roger had warned Berwick, her ignoble condition in England. And as for the poor landlady, what chance had she against the machinations of two of her favorite customers? She succumbed at once.
“There is always much washing to do at an inn,—sheets and towels and table-cloths,—and I could easily give her three days’ work out of the week,” said Madame Michot, with her finger on her lip. “The young person may be above that, though.”
“No, indeed she is not,” cried Roger, earnestly; “and besides, being a girl of sense, she sees how necessary it is that she shall have respectable surroundings, and to be employed by you, madam—with the very great respect which you command—”
“’Twould establish the poor girl’s character forever,” said Berwick, decisively, bringing the point of his sword down on the floor. “Employed by Madame Michot, who could say a word against her?”
“You may send her to-morrow morning,” replied Madame Michot, with the greatest amiability.