Bernard Gray—for the person addressed was no other—appeared to be somewhat downcast by his intelligence.
“So, the old cummer is dead,” he said. “Well, she was a round age, I ween; and led an indifferent good life.”
“She was fifty odd when Gaffer Wiggins was buried,” remarked Zedekiah, “and that is twenty years agone, come Martinmas.”
“So long?” said Bernard, “Ah! life fleets fast. But how comes it, Zedekiah, thou art not at the cummer’s now? Thou art not wont to be thus tardy.”
“The Lord required me elsewhere,” answered Zedekiah. “We have been at the Grange all the morning.”
“How?” inquired Bernard. “Had ye aught to do at Sir Edgar de Neville’s?”
“Ay, ay, we have chained down the arch-malignant,” replied Zedekiah. “The Pope may deliver him now, an’ he can.”
His information, though full of weight and meaning, was not very explicit, or calculated to give Bernard a correct idea of the momentous event it referred to. Still it let him know that something strange had happened, in which, if it should any way have affected Hildebrand Clifford, he might himself be interested; and he applied himself diligently to learn from Zedekiah the full particulars. Some time elapsed before he could bring matters to such a satisfactory issue; but, in the end, he accomplished his purpose, and thus became acquainted, among other things, with the exact position of affairs at the Grange, excepting only the solitary circumstance of the disappearance of Hildebrand.
Satisfied that he had learned from Zedekiah all he knew, he bade that worthy a hasty adieu, and took his departure. It was now approaching the hour at which, according to their appointment of the previous day, he was to have an interview with Hildebrand, and, with an anxious and troubled spirit, he hastened towards the spot where they had agreed to meet.
He did not expect that Hildebrand would keep his appointment. He felt that, in the existing state of things, it would be difficult for him to absent himself from the Grange, though it were only for a few moments, without showing disrespect to his host; and from what he had seen of Hildebrand, and the views he entertained of his character, he thought it unlikely that he would incur an imputation of that sort. Indeed, he was not without some apprehension, from all that he had heard, that Hildebrand might be threatened with danger himself, and, perhaps, be involved in the charge which had been brought against Sir Edgar. It was true, he argued, when this apprehension first occurred to him, that Hildebrand had not been mentioned by Zedekiah, but that might arise from his supposing that he did not know Hildebrand, and therefore, in the ordinary course of things, could feel no curiosity about what should happen to him. He knew that Shedlock, if he found any opportunity, would strive his utmost to make away with Hildebrand, and his proceedings against Sir Edgar might be a mere feint, designed, with a Satanic cunning, to cover an attack on Hildebrand. As he mused on these possibilities, he was almost inclined, at one time, to turn back to Zedekiah, and see if he could glean anything more from him; but ultimately, thinking this would be a fruitless mission, he changed his mind, and pursued his original intention of proceeding straight to his appointment with Hildebrand.