"Kind, is she?" he said, with a laugh. "So you've begun already to screw your way into her good graces, have you? That's right, Tinman; that's what you're down here for, you old rascal. Watch all she does--follow her about--pounce on any letters that may chance to come for her, and let me see them first. Spy on her, you dog--find out all about her." I did not answer; I was glad to think that this brute could have so little knowledge of me as to suppose that I should do it. He was evidently satisfied with my silence; after a moment or two he went on talking again. "You're going to see company, Tinman. I've got a friend coming down here to stay--man named Dawkins. He's a sly devil, and I may want him; incidentally, you can watch him too. Fanshawe also is coming." "Jervis Fanshawe?" I looked up at him quickly in surprise. "Yes, but not here. He'll lie low in the town; I'm going to get a lodging for him. Stirring times, Tinman--eh?" He got up, and strode about the room, rubbing his hands and laughing; I did not dare ask what was going to happen. Presently he stopped, and faced me as I knelt beside a portmanteau. "Look up at me, Tinman, and speak the truth, if you can. You saw that young man downstairs just now?" I nodded slowly. "I saw him coming up to the house," I replied truthfully; "he asked who I was, and whether you had arrived." "Ever seen him before?" he demanded. "Look up at me; I want no lies." I looked up at him, but I lied nevertheless. "Never," I replied steadily. "The young fool thinks he's in love with the girl, and believes that she's in love with him. It's all right while he _thinks_ so; but I don't mean to have any nonsense. He's another one to be watched, Tinman; if by any chance you should discover them meeting, or whispering together, or any such nonsense as that--let me know. Do you hear?" He kicked me softly on the leg as he asked the question. "I hear," I replied. "Very well then--see that you do it. And don't forget, at all times when you may be tempted to do anything against my interests, that I've taken you out of the gutter, and that I'll kick you back there again, to starve, if you don't behave yourself. I don't do dirty work myself; I employ men like you to do it for me. Understand that?" He kicked me softly again, and laughed. "Yes, I understand," I replied. "Good. See that you remember it," he retorted. "Understand also that in this house I do as I like, and that my word is law. Above all things, be meek and humble with me, Tinman; I want no fiery words or looks from you. Your fiery youth is gone past, and is done with." "I know that," I said, almost in a whisper. "Yet you killed a man once, Tinman, so I've been told," he added musingly. "It doesn't seem possible, when one looks at you now, that you had hot blood in you to that extent. What did it feel like--to kill the man?"