The servant hesitated, and then said in a low voice: “As a gentleman, you must have seen I’m no groom—and think how it must gall me to serve as one.”
“Thou shouldst have thought of that before thou indentured, rather—”
“I know,” burst out the man, “but I was crazed—was wild with—with a grief that had come to me, and knew not what I was doing.”
“Fudge! No romantics. Every redemptioner would have it he is a gentleman, when he’s only caught the trick by waiting on them.”
“But if I buy my time you—”
“How ’d come ye by the money?”
“I—I think I could get the amount.”
“Ay. I doubt not ye know how money ’s to be got by hook or by crook! And no doubt ye want your freedom to drill more rebels to the king. Ye’ll not get it from me, so there ’s an end on ’t.” With which the squire rose, and stamped into the hall and then to his office.
Charles stood for a moment looking at the ground, and then raised his head so quickly that Janice, who had joined the two during the foregoing dialogue and whose eyes were upon him, had not time to look away. “Can’t you persuade him to let me go, Miss Janice?” he asked appealingly.
“Why do you want your freedom?” questioned Janice, letting dignity surrender to curiosity.