"If I could only get rid of him without knowing what became of him!" exclaimed Miss Lucinda, squeezing her forefinger with great earnestness, and looking both puzzled and pained.
"If Mees Lucinda would pairmit?" said a voice behind her.
She turned round to see Monsieur Leclerc on his crutches, just in the parlor-door.
"I shall, Mees, myself dispose of Piggee, if it please. I can. I shall have no sound; he shall to go away like a silent snow, to trouble you no more, never!"
"Oh, Sir! if you could! But I don't see how!"
"If Mees was to see, it would not be to save her pain. I shall have him to go by magique to fiery land."
Fairy-land, probably! But Miss Lucinda did not perceive the équivoque.
"Nor yet shall I trouble Meester Israyel. I shall have the aid of myself and one good friend that I have; and some night when you rise of the morning, he shall not be there."
Miss Lucinda breathed a deep sigh of relief.
"I am greatly obliged,—I shall be, I mean," said she.