"I'm fine, Ferron, you can let go of my hand now!" Cyril said with great certainty.
Ferron did not hear him and held on to his master's hand until they reached the residence. He placed a disgusting-looking drink in a silver goblet and asked Cyril to drink it.
"Master, please drink!" he commanded.
But he did not touch the glass of green liquid. How did he know that Ferron was not being used by someone by saying that the liquid was safe to drink?
"Why did you pull me out of there?" He asked curiously.
Ferron bowed to Cyril apologetically. "My grandfather said something strange about the warehouse. I went there out of concern and found a servant standing guard at the door. He said you had gone into the cellar alone. But when I looked up, the lantern was no longer lit. So I came down after calling some people!"
"Something strange?" He caught the sentence that caught his attention.
