“You are——”
The rest was in a swift, hissing whisper, but the boy heard it, for his eyes instantly blazed with a lightning passion, while the rage and hate shown in every feature, and he shook as with an ague fit.
“Curse him! Ten thousand maledictions on him! I will do it!” he wildly exclaimed, striding up and down the room in a towering fury.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the other. “I thought you’d come to your senses, my fine fellow. Now you can work for two fortunes instead of one.”
He laughed wickedly, and looked so evil that his cloven-footed master must have been proud of such an ally.
“I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it,” said Ralph, stopping suddenly, as if in doubt. “I don’t see how it can be possible.”
“Very well,” answered Squire Moulton, with an ugly sneer. “Sit down again and be calm, and I will tell you how it happens to be so. I will give you the whole history.”
Ralph Moulton (for we who are not in the secret must still call him so) went to the sideboard and poured out a glass of wine, which he instantly drained, and then resumed his seat.
“Draw nearer,” said the squire, “for should a breath of this be heard it would spoil all our plans.”
Ralph obeyed, and for an hour listened with breathless interest to the exciting story related by his supposed uncle.