“Did you t’ink ob tellin’ him all dat?” asked Peter.
“I certainly did.”
“Well, you’re not half such a hipperkrite as I t’ink you was.”
“I’m glad to hear you say so, for I don’t like to play the part of a hypocrite, Peter; I like to be all fair and above-board.”
“Was it all fair an’ above-board, Geo’ge, to kiss dat leetle gal when she was all alone and unpurtected? Was it all fair an’ above-board to call her you dear chile, as if you was her fadder?”
“Come, come, Peter, ‘everything is fair,’ you know, ‘in love and war.’ But that’s not the point. Can you guess, I ask, Ben-Ahmed’s motive for acting so oddly?”
“Oh! yis, Geo’ge, I kin guess a’most anybody’s motives, zough, p’r’aps, I mightn’t guess right. I shouldn’t wonder, now, if Ben-Ahmed will hab to account to do Dey for de tottle disappearance of Hugh Sommers—to say not’ing ob Eddard La—La—what’s-’is-name—an’ p’r’aps he’d like to be able to say he’d no notion o’ what de man he sent to fetch de slabe was goin’ to do. Now he couldn’t hab say dat, you know, if he let you tell him all about it—like a goose as you was. So he let you go off, d’ye see, gib you your orders so far, an’ labes de rest to your good sense—zough dere wasn’t too much ob dat to leab it to, or you wouldn’t hab bring away Eddard La—La—t’ing-um-bob.”
“But do you really mean to tell me, Peter, that Ben-Ahmed intended me and Hugh Sommers to escape?”
“Das really what I means to tell you, Geo’ge.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me all, this before, and save me from a deal of uncertainty?”