"What was the occasion of that remarkable disappearance of yours a year ago? Surely you can tell me now; I've never been so curious over anything in my life." "I've never told anybody about that, neither my father nor Stonewell nor Helen nor anybody else." "Well, I declare! I don't suppose it amounted to much, anyway. And perhaps you think you're more interesting if you're mysterious. Now, Mr. Robert, tell me something else; why wasn't Harry Blunt with us this afternoon? I asked him and he said you hadn't invited him. Don't you like him, Robert? I think Harry is a nice boy." "Don't talk to me about Harry Blunt. Let's talk about his sister. Helen is a very good friend of mine, and her father is one of the finest----" "Robert," suddenly interrupted Nellie, "something is going to happen to you again--that colored man in the doorway motioned to you; just look at him, he's motioning to you now; he wants to speak to you,--oh, I just knew something would happen to you." "Nonsense. That's old Grice. He's a great old chap. He just wants to see me about something--I'll take you to where Mrs. Blunt is and then go see what he wants." "What is it, Grice?" asked Robert to the old man at the door, a moment later. "Sompin' powerful bad, Mistah Drake; I'se feared to talk heah. Can yo' come outside, suh? I'se somef'n mighty bad to tell yo', suh!" The old darkey shook his head and rolled his eyes, making a grotesque effort to express the worried feelings evidently in his mind. "Come outside, but hurry. I'm here with some young ladies, and I haven't much time to talk with you." "No, suh, co'se not. And dem young ladies am pow'ful nice, suh." "Well, Grice, what is it that you want with me?" "Well, suh, I doan' know how to tell it. Yo' knows I'se messenger for department of mathmax, doan' yo', Mistah Drake?" "Of course; what of it?" "Mistah Drake, suh, will yo' gibe me yor promise as a naval officer an' gemman that yo' won' tell anybody what I'se gwine to say?" "No, of course I won't." "Well, suh, a big crime is goin' to be cormitted. An' a pore ole niggah man knows about it an' goes to a young gemman frend of hizn and asks fo' help and can't get none. And the pore ole niggah will be accused an' go to jail. Won' yo' help me, Mistah Drake? Won' yo' help a pore ole niggah what's in trouble?" "Of course I will, Grice, but I'm not going to promise you to keep secret what you tell me." "Ef yo' goes roun' talking 'bout what I tells yo' no one will believe me. I'll be bounced, suh, after thirty years heah, an' ef yo' doan' help me a crime will be cormitted and folks will say ole Grice done it. Ain't yo' gwine to help me, Mistah Drake?"