Part 24 (2/2)

Then the silent lips were unlocked.

”Could a black man--_marry_--a white woman, of the upper or middle cla.s.ses?” asked Hannibal, slowly.

”To be sure. There was the elder Dumas, and a dozen others. I tell you there's absolutely no color line there. They judge a man by what he is, not by the accident of race or skin. You'll see such a difference you'll be sorry you didn't go years before.”

Hannibal sat as if lost in thought.

”Mr. Fern will miss you, though,” continued Archie. ”Yes, and the family. You seem almost indispensable.”

A suspicious glance was shot at the speaker, but his face bore such an ingenuous look that the suggestion was dismissed. What could he know?

”They will get some one else,” said the negro, quietly.

”Yes, but in these days it is not easy to get people one can trust. Mr.

Fern will not find any one to take your place in a moment. And just now, when he evidently has a great deal of trouble on his mind, it will be unpleasant to make a change.”

Hannibal was completely deceived by the apparently honest character of these observations. He could not resist the temptation to boast a little, that peculiar trait of a menial.

”I know all about Mr. Fern's affairs,” he agreed. ”Both here and at the house. He would not trust the next man as he has me.”

Mr. Weil nodded wisely.

”I see, I see,” he answered. ”You know then what has annoyed him of late--that which has puzzled all the rest of us so much. You know, but having the knowledge in a sort of confidential capacity, you would, of course, have no right to reveal it.”

Hannibal straightened himself up in an exasperating way.

”You will not find what troubles Mr. Fern,” he said, loftily. ”And now, may I ask _you_ something. Do you expect to marry his eldest daughter?”

An inclination to kick the fellow for his impudence came so strong upon Mr. Weil that it required all of his powers to suppress the sentiment.

But through his indignation there struggled his old admiration for this elegant physical specimen. He wished he could get a statue modeled from him, before the original left the country.

”That is a delicate question,” he managed to say.

”I know it,” replied Hannibal. ”But I have observed some things which may have escaped you. Shall I tell you what I mean?”

Not at all easy under this strain, the curiosity of Mr. Weil was so great that he could only reply in the affirmative.

”Miss Millicent,” explained Hannibal, slowly, ”is in love--very much in love--with another person.”

A stare that could not be concealed answered him.

”You have not seen anything to indicate it?” asked the negro. ”I thought as much. She has done her best to cover it, and yet I can swear it is true. She _likes_ you, as a friend. But she _loves_ him, pa.s.sionately.”

He was in for it now and might as well follow this strange matter to the end.

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