His affection
prompted him to keep such a catastrophe secret as long as possible, and
he therefore turned to Mrs. Fancy and Gustavus, and said hurriedly,--
"This is a matter for me alone. Mrs. Fancy, please go away at once.
Gustavus, you will accompany Mrs. Fancy."
His manner was so firm, his face so iron in its determination, that
Mrs. Fancy and Gustavus dared not proffer a word. They turned away and
disappeared softly down the stairs, to wait the _denouement_ of this
tragedy in the hall below. Meantime the poker was growing red hot in the
coals, and Mrs. Merillia announced to the supposed ratcatcher,--
"I can hear you--I hear you breathing--" (the Prophet endeavoured not to
breathe). "I hear you rustling, but you can't touch me. The poker is red
hot."
And she drew it smoking from the grate and approached the door, holding
it in her delicate hand like a weapon.
"Grannie!" said the Prophet, making his voice as much like it generally
was as he possibly could. "Dearest grannie!"
"I dare you to come in!" replied Mrs. Merillia, in an almost formidable
manner. "I dare you to do it."
"I am not coming in, grannie," said the Prophet.
"Then go away!" said Mrs.
Pages:
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357