Pecielena was a shrewd child, and only laughed.
“You wouldn’t dass shoot me,” said she confidently.
“Ah, you needn’t be so sure of that. Wait and see. Now I’m going to ask you six questions; and do you step toward the door every time you answer one. And if you are not out of the door by the time the last one is answered——”
The sentence was left unfinished, but there was an awful gleam of spectacles, a threatening wave of the gun, and Preston’s appearance was most military and imposing.
“Do you know how to read, little girl?”
“No.”
“Then step.”
She slowly obeyed.
“Do you ever go to church?”
