She said nothing further, but sitting still, with her small hands crossed in her lap, she absolutely devoured the old man"s face with her eyes.
He was accustomed to her gaze, which glittered and shone, and never wavered, and was by some people thought uncanny. He finished his supper slowly and methodically, and until he had eaten the last mouthful, and drained off the last drop of beer in the pewter mug, he didn"t speak.
Then with a sharp glance at the girl he said, suddenly:
"So you wanted to take me unawares?"
"What do you mean, Grandfather?"
"You know what I mean well enough. However, I"ll tell you, you have been on the tramp; you have no money; but you thought your legs would carry you where your heart wanted to be. Shall I go on?"
"Oh, yes, you may say anything you fancy. Stay, I"ll say it for you.
Yesterday I walked to Northbury. Northbury is over twenty miles from here. I walked every step of the way. In the evening I got there--I was footsore and weary. I had one and sixpence in my purse, no more for food, no more for bribes, no more for anything. I went to Northbury to see the Bertrams--to see that fine lady, that beloved friend of mine, Mrs. Bertram. She was from home. You probably know where she really was.
I bribed the gatekeeper, and got into the grounds of Rosendale Manor. I frightened a chit of a schoolgirl, a plain, little, unformed, timorous creature. She was a Bertram, coming home from a late dissipation. She spoke of her fright, and gave her sister the cue. About midnight Catherine Bertram came out to seek me. What"s the matter, Grand-dad?"
"Good heavens! Nina, that glib tongue of yours has not been blabbing.
Catherine! What is Miss Bertram"s Christian name to you?"
"Never mind. Her Christian name, and she herself also, are a good deal to me. As to blabbing, I never blab; I saw her, she spoke to me; I slept at the lodge; I returned home to-day."
"You walked home?"
"Yes, and I am dead tired; I want to go to bed now."
"You can"t for a few minutes. I have a few words to say first.
Josephine, I have always been a good grandfather to you."
"Perhaps you have done your best, Grand-dad, but your best has not been much. I am clothed after a fashion, and fed after a style, and educated!" she filliped her slender fingers scornfully; "educated! I belong to the self-taught. Still, after your lights, you have been a good Grand-dad. Now, what is all this preamble about? I can scarcely keep my eyes open. If you are not quick your words will soon fall unregarded, for I shall be in the arms of that G.o.d of delight, Morpheus."
"I have something very important to say, child. I want to lay a command upon you."
"What is that?"
"You are not to act the spy on the Bertrams again."
"The spy? What do you mean?"
"What I say. You are not to do it. I have made arrangements, and the Bertrams are to be unmolested. I have given my oath, and you must abide by it."
"What if I refuse?"
"Then we part company. You go one way, I another. You are truly a beggar, and can take up no other position without my aid. You have a story to tell which no one will believe, for I alone hold the proofs.
Talk much about your fine secret, and what will be the result? People will think you off your head. Be guided by me, and all comes right in the end and in the meantime we share the spoils."
"The spoils," said Josephine, "what do you mean?
"I can give you a practical answer, Nina. I have made a good bargain, a splendid bargain; seeing that I have only put on the first screw, my success has largely antic.i.p.ated my wildest hopes. Josephine, my poor girl, you need no longer suffer the pangs of hunger and neglect. You and I are no longer penniless. What do you say to an income? What do you say to four hundred a year?"
Josephine put up her thin, white hand to her forehead.
"Four hundred a year?" she repeated, vaguely. "I don"t quite know what it means. What have we now?"
"Anything or nothing. Sometimes a pound a week, sometimes two pounds, sometimes five shillings."
"And we have in the future?"
"Didn"t I tell you, child? Four hundred a year. One hundred pounds paid regularly every quarter. Got without earning, got without toiling for.
Ours whether we are sick or well; ours under any circ.u.mstances from this day forward; ours just for keeping a little bit of a secret to ourselves."
"A secret which keeps me out of my own."
"We have no money to prove it, child, at present. In the meantime, this is a certainty. Whenever we get our proofs complete we can cease to take this annuity."
"This bribe, you mean. I scorn it. I hate it. I won"t touch it."
Josephine"s eyes again gleamed with anger.
"I hate bribes," she repeated.
"All right, child. You can go on starving. You can go your own way, I mine. For myself, at least, I have accepted the annuity; and if you anger me any more, I"ll burn the doc.u.ments tonight, which give you the shadow of a claim."
Josephine turned pale. There were moments when, fearless as she was, she feared this queer old man. The present was one of them. She sat quite still for a moment or two, during which she thought deeply. Then she spoke in an altered tone.
"Grandfather, if I consent to make no fuss, to say nothing, to reveal nothing by word or action, will you give me half your annuity?"
"Why so, Nina? Had we not better live together? When all is said and done, I"d miss you, Grandchild, if you left me."
"You"d get over that, Grand-dad. These are not the days when people are especially affectionate. Will you give me two hundred a year, and let me live away from you?"
The old man looked down at the floor, and up at the ceiling; then furtively into his granddaughter"s face, then away from her.
"It"s late now, we"ll talk of it to-morrow," he said.
"No, I am not sleepy any longer. Two hundred a year is worth staying awake for. Will you give it to me? You can promise to-night as well as tomorrow."
"This is an important thing. I can"t make up my mind all in a minute.
I"ve got to think."
"You can think now. I"ll give you half-an-hour. I"ll shut my tired eyes, and you can think hard for half-an-hour."
"Nina, you are so persistent."
"Exactly, I am so persistent. Now my eyes are shut. Please begin to think."
CHAPTER XIII.