.

_B._ _Pottered and gulped!_ What language do you call that?

_A._ It's all right, my dear fellow. I understand that it is the refined
slang of the modern boudoir, and only known to the initiated.

_B._ They had better keep it entirely to their boudoirs. I should advise
you to leave it all out.

_A._ Well, I thought that one who was so very particular, must have been
the standard of perfection herself.

_B._ That does not at all follow.

_A._ But what I wish to read to you is the way in which I have managed
that my secret shall never be divulged. It is known only to four.

_B._ A secret known to four people! You must be quick then.

_A._ So I am, as you shall hear; they all meet in a dark gallery, but do
not expect to meet any one but the hero, whom they intend to murder,
each one having, unknown to the others, made an appointment with him for
that purpose, on the pretence of telling him the great secret.
Altogether the scene is well described, but it is long, so I'll come at
once to the _denouement_.

_B._ Pray do.

_A._ "Absenpresentini felt his way by the slimy wall, when the breath of
another human being caught his ear: he paused, and held his own breath.
'No, no,' muttered the other, 'the _secret of blood and gold_ shall
remain with me alone. Let him come, and he shall find death.' In a
second, the dagger of Absenpresentini was in the mutterer's bosom:--he
fell without a groan. 'To me alone the secret of blood and gold, and
with me it remains,' exclaimed Absenpresentini. 'It does remain with
you,' cried Phosphorini, driving his dagger into his
back:--Absenpresentini fell without a groan, and Phosphorini,
withdrawing his dagger, exclaimed, 'Who is now to tell the secret but
me?' 'Not you,' cried Vortiskini, raising up his sword and striking at
where the voice proceeded. The trusty steel cleft the head of the
abandoned Phosphorini, who fell without a groan. 'Now will I retain the
secret of blood and gold,' said Vortiskini, as he sheathed his sword.
'Thou shalt,' exclaimed the wily Jesuit, as he struck his stiletto to
the heart of the robber, who fell without a groan. 'With me only does
the secret now rest, by which our order might be disgraced; with me it
dies,' and the Jesuit raised his hand. 'Thus to the glory and the honour
of his society does Manfredini sacrifice his life.' He struck the
keen-pointed instrument into his heart, and died without a groan.
'Stop,' cried our hero."

_B._ And I agree wi