"I'm in service with Mr Rogers," said Fancy, who as if in a moment had
recovered her composure. "If you want to know why, sir, and won't chat
about it, I don't mind tellin' you."

"You make me curious, little maid: that I'll own."

"'Tis simple enough, too," said she. "He's had a stroke, an' he's goin
to hell."

"Eh? . . . I don't see--"

"He's goin' to hell," she repeated with a nod as over a matter that
admitted no dispute.

"Well, but dang it all!" protested Captain Cai after a pause,
"we'll allow as he's goin' there, for the sake of argyment. Is that why
you're tendin' on him so careful?"

"You mustn't think," answered the child, "that I'm doin' it out o' pity
altogether. There's something terrible fascinatin' about a man in that
position."



CHAPTER IV.


VOICES IN THE TWILIGHT.