"I came to offer you my very warm sympathy with the grief you have so
lately experienced."
"My grief? I'm afraid I must be very dull; but I really do not
understand."
Already she felt at a disadvantage, and hesitated.
"I mean about the old man who died so suddenly--your old . . . retainer."
Caswall's face relaxed something of its puzzled concentration.
"Oh, he was only a servant; and he had over-stayed his three-score and
ten years by something like twenty years. He must have been ninety!"
"Still, as an old servant . . . "
Caswall's words were not so cold as their inflection.
"I never interfere with servants. He was kept on here merely because he
had been so long on the premises. I suppose the steward thought it might
make him unpopular if the old fellow had been dismissed."
How on earth was she to proceed on such a task as hers if this was the
utmost geniality she could expect? So she at once tried another
tack--this time a personal one.
"I am sorry I disturbed you. I am really not unconventional--though
certainly no slave to convention. Still there are limits . . . it is bad
enough to intrude in this way, and I do not know what you can say or
think of the time selected, for the intrusion."
After all, Edgar Caswall was a gentleman by custom and habit, so he rose
to the occasion.
"I can only say, Lady Arabella, that you are always welcome at any time
you may deign to honour my house with your presence."
She smiled at him sweetly.
"Thank you _so_ much. You _do_ put one at ease. My breach of convention
makes me glad rather than sorry. I feel that I can open my heart to you
about anything."
Forthwith she proceeded to tell him about Oolanga and his strange
suspicions of her honesty. Caswall laughed and made her explain all the
details. His final comment was enlightening.
"Let me give you a word of advice: If you have the slightest fault to
find with that infernal nigger, shoot him at sight. A swelled-headed
nigger, with a bee in his bonnet, is one of the worst difficulties in the
world to deal with. So better make a clean job of it, and wipe him out
at once!"
"But what about the law, Mr. Caswall?"
"Oh, the law doesn't concern itself much about dead niggers. A few more
or less do not matter. To my mind it's rather a relief!"
"I'm afraid of you," was her only comment, made with a sweet smile and in
a soft voice.
"All right," he said, "let us leave it at that. Any
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