The hint conveyed by the words half frightened me to death. He allow me! he assume a right to control me! I spoke out in my sick terror.
"You cannot have any power over me or my actions, Mr. Edwin Barley."
"Indeed I have, Anne. The law would say so. Do you know who Mrs. Penn is?" he abruptly asked.
"I don't know who Mrs. Penn is or where she comes from," was my quick reply, glad he had put a question at last that I could answer honestly. "Will you please to let me go, sir? it is getting dark."
"Not just yet. You must first reply to a question or two I wish to ask touching Harry Chandos. To begin with: Does he go often from home?"
Sick, faint, weak, though I was, I had presence of mind to put up one little sentence of prayer to be helped to do right: and that right I knew lay in denying him all information.
"I cannot tell you anything whatever about Mr. Chandos—or what he does—or what any one else does. As long as I am in the family, protected by them, trusted by them, it is dishonourable even to listen to such questions. But indeed I know nothing. If the Chandos family have secrets, they do not tell them to me."
"I should not imagine they would. I am not asking you for secrets. There are reasons why I wish to learn a little of their ordinary everyday doings. This, at any rate, is a simple question: Does Mr. Harry Chandos——"
"It is of no use, sir; I will not answer that or any other. Pray do not stop me again! I hope you will pardon me for reminding you that I heard Mr. Chandos desire you not to intrude on these grounds: I think you ought to obey him, sir."
His face, always stern, grew fierce in its anger. Perhaps it was only natural that it should. He raised his hand before me.