“What are you worrying the thing for?” demanded his master.
“I’m not worrying it,” said the assistant in an aggrieved voice. “It’s been moving about up and down the shop, and then it suddenly started like that. It’s got a fit, I suppose.”
He went back to the shop, and the Jew sat in his chair half ashamed of his nervous credulity, listening to the animal, which was rushing about in the rooms upstairs.
“Go and see what’s the matter with the thing, Bob,” he cried.
The assistant obeyed, returning hastily in a minute or two, and closing the door behind him.
“Well, what’s the matter?” demanded his master.
“The brute’s gone mad,” said the assistant, whose face was white. “It’s flying about upstairs like a wild thing. Mind it don’t get in, it’s as bad as a mad dog.”
“Oh, rubbish,” said the Jew. “Cats are often like that.”
“Well, I’ve never seen one like it before,” said the other, “and, what’s more, I’m not going to see that again.”
The animal came downstairs, scuffling along the passage, hit the door with its head, and then dashed upstairs again.