"It was not fancy," said Rose, gentle and timid as ever, but still
obviously injured at the tone of reproof.
"My dear child," said Colonel Keith, with some exertion of patience,
"you must try to be reasonable. How can you possibly recognise a man
that you tell me you never saw?"
"I said I never saw him in the house," said Rose with a shudder;
"but they said if ever I told they would give me to the lions in the
Zoological Gardens."
"Who said so?"
"He, Mr. Maddox and Maria," she answered, in such trepidation that he
could scarcely hear her.
"But you are old and wise enough now to know what a foolish and wicked
threat that was, my dear."
"Yes, I was a little girl then, and knew no better, and once I did tell
a lie when mamma asked me, and now she is dead, and I can never tell her
the truth."
Colin dreaded a public outbreak of the sobs that heaved in the poor
child's throat, but she had self-control enough to restrain them till
he had led her into his own library, where he let her weep out her
repentance for the untruth, which, wrested from her by terror, had
weighed so long on her conscience. He felt that he was sparing Ermine
something by receiving the first tempest of tears, in the absolute
terror and anguish of revealing the secret that had preyed on her with
mysterious horror.
"Now tell me all about it, my dear little girl. Who was this Maria?"
"Maria was my nurse when I lived at home. She used to take me out
walking," said Rose, pressing closer to his protecting breast, and
pausing as though still afraid of her own words.
"Well," he said, beginning to perceive, "and was it than that you saw
this Maddox?"
"Yes, he used to come and walk with us, and sit under the trees in
Kensington Gardens with her. And sometimes he gave me lemon-drops, but
they said if ever I told, the lions should have me. I used to think I
might be saved like Daniel; but after I told the lie, I knew I should
not. Mamma asked me why my fingers were sticky, and I did say it was
from a lemon-drop, but there were Maria's eyes looking at me; oh, so
dreadful, and when mamma asked who gave it to me, and Maria said, 'I
did, did not I, Miss Rose?' Oh, I did not seem able to help saying
'yes.'"
"Poor child! And you never dared to speak of it again?"
"Oh, no! I did long to tell; but, oh, one night it was written up in
letters of fire, 'Beware of the Lions.'"
"Terror must have set you dreaming, my dear."