The serenest gravity sat on his large, pale features.
"Why have I done this?" he asked.
"I suppose to get possession of the poker."
"Quite right. May I inquire your next move?"
"Why," said I, feeling in my tail pocket, "I carry a pistol."
"Which I suppose to be damp?"
"By no means. I carry it, as you see, in an oil-cloth case."
He stopped, and laid the poker carefully in the fender.
"That is a stronger card than I possess. I might urge that by pulling
the trigger you would certainly alarm the house and the neighborhood,
and put a halter round your neck. I say, I _might_ urge this, and
assume you to be an intelligent auditor. But it strikes me as safer to
assume you capable of using a pistol with effect at three paces. With
what might happen subsequently I will not pretend to be concerned. It
is sufficient that I dislike the notion of being perforated. The fate
of your neck--" He waved a hand. "Well, I have known you for just
five minutes, and feel but moderate interest in your neck. As for
the inmates of this house, it will refresh you to hear that there are
none. I have lived here two years with a butler and a female cook,
both of whom I dismissed yesterday at a moment's notice for conduct
which I will not shock your ears by explicitly naming. Suffice it to
say, I carried them off yesterday to my parish church, two miles away,
married them, and dismissed them in the vestry without characters.
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