y. Give me a little breathing
time, and you shall hear."

CHAPTER XXIII. MISS REDWOOD.

"I got invited to Sir Jervis's house," Alban resumed, "by treating the
old savage as unceremoniously as he had treated me. 'That's an idle
trade of yours,' he said, looking at my sketch. 'Other ignorant people
have made the same remark,' I answered. He rode away, as if he was not
used to be spoken to in that manner, and then thought better of it, and
came back. 'Do you understand wood engraving?' he asked. 'Yes.'
'And etching?' 'I have practiced etching myself.' 'Are you a Royal
Academician?' 'I'm a drawing-master at a ladies' school.' 'Whose
school?' 'Miss Ladd's.' 'Damn it, you know the girl who ought to have
been my secretary.' I am not quite sure whether you will take it as a
compliment--Sir Jervis appeared to view you in the light of a reference
to my respectability. At any rate, he went on with his questions. 'How
long do you stop in these parts?' 'I haven't made up my mind.' 'Look
here; I want to consult you--are you listening?' 'No; I'm sketching.' He
burst into a horrid scream. I asked if he felt himself taken ill. 'Ill?'
he said--'I'm laughing.' It was a diabolical laugh, in one syllable--not
'ha! ha! ha!' only 'ha!'--and it made him look wonderfully like that
eminent person, whom I persist in thinking he resembles. 'You're an
impudent dog,' he said; 'where are you living?' He was so delighted when
he heard of my uncomfortable position in the kennel-bedroom, that
he offered his hospitality on the spot. 'I can't go to you in such a
pigstye as that,' he said; 'you must come to me. What's your name?'
'Alban Morris; what's yours?' 'Jervis Redwood. Pack up your traps when
you've done your job, and come and try my kennel. There it is, in a
corner of your drawing, and devilish like, too.' I packed up my traps,
and I tried his kennel. And now you have had enough of Sir Jervis
Redwood."

"Not half enough!" Emily answered. "Your story leaves off just at the
interesting moment. I want you to take me to Sir Jervis's house."

"And I want you, Miss Emily, to take me to the British Museum. Don't let
me startle you! When I called here earlier in the day, I was told that
you had gone to the reading-room. Is your reading a secret?"

His manner, when he made that reply, suggested to Emily that there was
some foregone conclusion in his mind, which he was putting to the test.
She answered without alluding to the impression which he h