have no sort of doubt that I acted the part I had assumed in a manner
I never should have approached in happier circumstances.

"Come, come, my lass," cried the old oak veteran, "I'm not going to
put a bullet through you, you know! You tell me all. about it, and
it'll do you more good than harm. There, I'll put the nasty thing
away and - God bless me, if the brazen wench hasn't squeezed into
the wife's kit!"

A squeeze it happened to have been, and in my emotion it felt more
of one than ever; but his sudden discovery had not heightened the
veteran's animosity against me. On the contrary, I caught a glint
of humor through his gleaming glass, and he proceeded to pocket his
revolver like the gentleman he was.

"'Well, well, it's lucky I looked in," he continued. "I only came
round on the off-chance of letters, but if I hadn't you'd have had
another week in clover. Begad, though, I saw your handwriting the
moment I'd got my nose inside! Now just be sensible and tell me
where your good man is.

I had no man. I was alone, had broken in alone. There was not a
soul in the affair (much less the house) except myself. So much I
stuttered out in tones too hoarse to betray me on the spot. But
the old man of the world shook a hard old head.

"Quite right not to give away your pal," said he. "But I'm not one
of the marines, my dear, and you mustn't expect me to swallow all.
that. Well, if you won't say, you won't, and we must just send
for those who will."