“It is a fact, I assure you.”
“Did you know him then?”
“No, not personally, but I was acquainted with those who did know him. What was your wife’s maiden name?”
“Hester Teige. Upon my word you seem greatly interested about her,” cried Rawton, with sudden warmth.
His companion coloured slightly. “No, oh dear no—not at all. You are mistaken,” he ejaculated, endeavouring to assume an air of indifference. “I know not why I asked the question, but I suppose she passed as Lady M‘Bride.”
“I dare say she did. She might have done for aught I know. She may have had a good many names in her time. She went on the stage, so I was told, and played under another name.”
“Oh, indeed, then possibly she’s had some strange alternations of fortune.”
Rawton shook his head.
“I know nothing about her. She’s passed away, and is nothing to me now—has not been anything to me for years.”
“You are evidently a character in your way. You’ve endeavoured to play the part of a highwayman—not very successfully, it is true—but you’ve made the attempt, and doubtless you have played many other parts in the drama of life. I must learn something more of you. Take my advice for the future—abstain from the committal of any lawless act. I have a wish to befriend you; for the present I will give you some temporary assistance—something to help you over your immediate difficulties—and for the rest you have my permission to visit mo again, when I will see what can be done for you.”