|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
 |
||||
|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
|
|
||||
|
193 much.’ ‘You have passed a strange night, Jane.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘And it has made you look pale-were you afraid when I left you alone with Mason?’ ‘I was afraid of some one coming out of the inner room.’ ‘But I had fastened the door-I had the key in my pocket: I should have been a careless shepherd if I had left a lamb-my pet lamb-so near a wolf’s den, unguarded: you were safe.’ ‘Will Grace Poole live here still, sir?’ ‘Oh yes! don’t trouble your head about her-put the thing out of your thoughts.’ ‘Yet it seems to me your life is hardly secure while she stays.’ ‘Never fear-I will take care of myself.’ ‘Is the danger you apprehended last night gone by now, sir?’ ‘I cannot vouch for that till Mason is out of England: nor even then. To live, for me, Jane, is to stand on a crater-crust which may crack and spue fire any day.’ ‘But Mr. Mason seems a man easily led. Your influence, sir, is evidently potent with him: he will never set you at defiance or wilfully injure you.’ ‘Oh no! Mason will not defy me; nor, knowing it, will he hurt me-but, unintentionally, he might in a moment, by one careless word, deprive me, if not of life, yet for ever of happiness.’ ‘Tell him to be cautious, sir: let him know what you fear, and show him how to avert the danger.’ He laughed sardonically, hastily took my hand, and as hastily threw it from him. ‘If I could do that, simpleton, where would the danger be? Annihilated in a moment. Ever since I have known Mason, I have only had to say to him “Do that,” and the thing has been done. But I cannot give him orders in this case: I cannot say “Beware of harming me, Richard”; for it is imperative that I should keep him ignorant that harm to me is possible. Now you look puzzled; and I will puzzle you further. You are my little friend, are you not?’ ‘I like to serve you, sir, and to obey you in all that is right.’ ‘Precisely: I see you do. I see genuine contentment in your gait and mien, your eye and face, when you are helping me and pleasing me-working for me, and with me, in, as you characteristically say, “all that is right”: for if I bid you do what you thought wrong, there would be no light-footed running, no neat-handed alacrity, no lively glance and animated complexion. My friend would then turn to me, quiet and pale, and would say, “No, sir; that is impossible: I cannot do it, because it is wrong”; and would become immutable as a fixed star. Well, you too have power over me, and may injure me: yet I dare not show you where I am vulnerable, lest, faithful and friendly as you are, you should transfix me at once.’ ‘If you have no more to fear from Mr. Mason than you have from me, sir, you are very safe.’ ‘God grant it may be so! Here, |
