“What? Then he is in the King’s service, after all? And when I was here with my troops he said he was neutral. I’ll never take a Tory’s word again.”
“Am you like to hab de chance, sir?” queried Cuff, with a grin.
“What! You taunt me with my situation?” And Harry’s head shot up from the sofa as he made to rise and chastise the boy; but he could not stand on his leg, and so remained sitting, propped on his right arm, panting and glaring at the negro.
Cuff, whose whiteness of teeth had shown in his moment of mirth, now displayed much whiteness of eye in his alarm at Peyton’s movement, and glided to the door. As he went out to the hall, he passed Molly, who was coming into the parlor with a bowl of broth.
“Hah!” ejaculated Peyton as she came towards him. “They would feed the animal for the slaughter, eh?”
Molly curtseyed.
“Please, sir, it wa’n’t they sent this. I brought it of my own accord, sir, though with Miss Elizabeth’s permission.”
“Oh! so Miss Elizabeth did give her permission, then?”
“Yes, sir. At least, she said it didn’t matter, if I wished to.”