On his side, the Indian preserved the character of a perfect stranger.
He produced the little casket, and made exactly the same application
which he had afterwards made to me. As the speediest way of getting rid
of him, Mr. Luker had at once declared that he had no money. The Indian
had thereupon asked to be informed of the best and safest person to
apply to for the loan he wanted. Mr. Luker had answered that the best
and safest person, in such cases, was usually a respectable solicitor.
Asked to name some individual of that character and profession, Mr.
Luker had mentioned me--for the one simple reason that, in the extremity
of his terror, mine was the first name which occurred to him. "The
perspiration was pouring off me like rain, sir," the wretched creature
concluded. "I didn't know what I was talking about. And I hope you'll
look over it, Mr. Bruff, sir, in consideration of my having been really
and truly frightened out of my wits."
I excused the fellow graciously enough. It was the readiest way of
releasing myself from the sight of him. Before he left me, I detained
him to make one inquiry.
Had the Indian said anything noticeable, at the moment of quitting Mr.
Luker's house?
Yes! The Indian had put precisely the same question to Mr. Luker, at
parting, which he had put to me; receiving of course, the same answer as
the answer which I had given him.
What did it mean? Mr. Luker's explanation gave me no assistance towards
solving the problem. My own unaided ingenuity, consulted next, proved
quite unequal to grapple with the difficulty. I had a dinner engagement
that evening; and I went upstairs, in no very genial frame of mind,
little suspecting that the way to my dressing-room and the way to
discovery, meant, on this particular occasion, one and the same thing.