“May I depend on you?”
“Try me!”
CHAPTER XXXV. THE TREACHERY OF THE PIPE.
Alban took Mrs. Ellmother at her word. “I am going to venture on a guess,” he said. “You have been with Miss de Sor to-night.”
“Quite true, Mr. Morris.”
“I am going to guess again. Did Miss de Sor ask you to stay with her, when you went into her room?”
“That’s it! She rang for me, to see how I was getting on with my needlework—and she was what I call hearty, for the first time since I have been in her service. I didn’t think badly of her when she first talked of engaging me; and I’ve had reason to repent of my opinion ever since. Oh, she showed the cloven foot to-night! ‘Sit down,’ she says; ‘I’ve nothing to read, and I hate work; let’s have a little chat.’ She’s got a glib tongue of her own. All I could do was to say a word now and then to keep her going. She talked and talked till it was time to light the lamp. She was particular in telling me to put the shade over it. We were half in the dark, and half in the light. She trapped me (Lord knows how!) into talking about foreign parts; I mean the place she lived in before they sent her to England. Have you heard that she comes from the West Indies?”
“Yes; I have heard that. Go on.”
“Wait a bit, sir. There’s something, by your leave, that I want to know. Do you believe in Witchcraft?”