circumstances of the adventure into which he had been led by the beautiful stranger, and to all that he said concerning his adventure his interlocutor listened with the closest and most scrupulously riveted attention.
“Upon my word,” said he, when Jonathan had concluded, “I hope that you may not have been made the victim of some foolish hoax. Let me see what it is she has confided to you.”
“That I will,” replied Jonathan. And thereupon he thrust his hand into his breeches-pocket and brought forth the ivory ball.
No sooner did the one eye of the little gentleman in black light upon the object than a most singular and extraordinary convulsion appeared to seize upon him. Had a bullet penetrated his heart he could not have started more violently, nor have sat more rigidly and breathlessly staring.
Mastering his emotion with the utmost difficulty as Jonathan replaced the ball in his pocket, he drew a deep and profound breath and wiped the palm of his hand across his forehead as though arousing himself from a dream.
“And you,” he said, of a sudden, “are, I understand it, a Quaker. Do you, then, never carry a weapon, even in such a place as this, where at any moment in the dark a Spanish knife may be stuck betwixt your ribs?”
“Why, no,” said Jonathan, somewhat surprised that so foreign a topic should have been so suddenly introduced into the discourse. “I am a man of peace and not of blood. The people of the Society of Friends never carry weapons, either of offence or defence.”
As Jonathan concluded his reply the little gentleman suddenly arose from his chair and moved briskly around to the other side of the room. Our hero, watching him with some surprise, beheld him clap to the door and with a single movement shoot the bolt and turn the key therein. The next instant he turned to Jonathan a visage transformed as suddenly as though he had dropped a mask from his face. The gossiping and polite little old bachelor
