Waife. "I am above the necessity of making enemies. I have an enemy ready made in myself."
Rugge placed a strong bony hand upon the cripple's arm. "I dare say you have! A bad conscience, Sir. How would you like your past life looked into and blabbed out?"
Gentleman Waife (mournfully). "The last four years of it have been spent in your service, Mr. Rugge. If their record had been blabbed out for my benefit, there would not have been a dry eye in the house."
Rugge. "I disdain your sneer. When a scorpion nursed at my bosom sneers at me, I leave it to its own reflections. But I don't speak of the years in which that scorpion has been enjoying a salary and smoking canaster at my expense. I refer to an earlier dodge in its checkered existence. Ha, Sir, you wince! I suspect I can find out something about you which would—"
Waife (fiercely). "Would what?"
Rugge. "Oh, lower your tone, Sir—no bullying me. I suspect! I have good reason for suspicion; and if you sneak off in this way, and cheat me out of my property in Julia Araminta, I will leave no stone unturned to prove what I suspect. Look to it, slight man! Come, I don't wish to quarrel; make it up, and" (drawing out his pocket-book) "if you want cash down, and will have an engagement in black and white for three years for Julia Araminta, you may squeeze a good sum out of me, and go yourself where you please; you'll never be troubled by me. What I want is the girl."
All the actor laid aside, Waife growled out, "And hang me, Sir, if you shall have the girl!"
At this moment Sophy opened the door wide, and entered boldly. She had heard her grandfather's voice raised, though its hoarse tones did not allow her to distinguish his words. She was alarmed for him. She came in, his guardian fairy, to protect him from the oppressor of six feet high. Rugge's arm was raised, not indeed to strike, but rather to declaim. Sophy slid between him and her grandfather, and clinging round the latter, flung out her own arm, the forefinger raised menacingly toward the Remorseless Baron. How you would have clapped if you had seen her so at Covent Garden. But I'll swear the child did not know she was acting. Rugge did, and was struck with admiration and regretful rage at the idea of losing her.
"Bravo!" said he, involuntarily. "Come—come, Waife, look at her—she was born for the stage. My heart swells with pride. She is my property, morally speaking; make her so
