CHAPTER X.
"Am I to understand," said Mr. Rugge, in a whisper, when Waife had drawn him to the farthest end of the inner room, with the bed-curtains between their position and the door deadening the sound of their voices—"am I to understand that, after my taking you and that child to my theatre out of charity, and at your own request, you are going to quit me without warning—French leave—is that British conduct?"
"Mr. Rugge," replied Waife, deprecatingly, "I have no engagement with you beyond an experimental trial. We were free on both sides for three months—you to dismiss us any day, we to leave you. The experiment does not please us; we thank you, and depart."
Rugge. "That is not the truth. I said I was free to dismiss you both if the child did not suit. You, poor helpless creature, could be of no use. But I never heard you say you were tobe free, too. Stand to reason not. Put my engagements at a Waife's mercy!—I, Lorenzo Rugge!—stuff! But I'm a just man, and a liberal man, and if you think you ought to have a higher salary—if this ungrateful proceeding is only, as I take it, a strike for wages—I will meet you. Julia Araminta does play better than I could have supposed; and I'll conclude an engagement on good terms as we were to have done if the experiment answered, for three years."
Waife shook his head. "You are very good, Mr. Rugge, but it is not a strike. My little girl does not like the life at any price; and since she supports me, I am bound to please her. Besides," said the actor, with a stiffer manner, "you have broken faith with me. It was fully understood that I was to appear no more on your stage; all my task was to advise you in the performances, remodel the plays, help in the stage-management; and you took advantage of my penury, and, when I asked for a small advance, insisted on forcing these relics of what I was upon the public pity. Enough—we part. I bear no malice."
Rugge. "Oh, don't you? No more do I. But I am a Briton, and I have the spirit of one. You had better not make an enemy of me."
