This tenement, which was distinguished by the sign of “The Three Compasses,” was a cutler’s shop; but, besides the entrance to the shop, there was a private door, which was appropriated exclusively to the fair lodger. It was before the latter door that Bernard came to a halt; and a cumbrous clicket, or knocker, just above its lower panels, enabled him to inflict thereon a summons to the inmates.
The door was shortly opened, and Adam Green, the old valet, presented himself at the aperture.
It will be remembered that Adam was the servant who, as was set forth heretofore, had assisted Sir Edgar de Neville in his contest with the robbers, and had afterwards named Bernard as his adversary on that occasion. Although a great alteration in Bernard’s appearance, and the friendly relations which were maintained with him by Evaline, with the earnest zeal which he invariably manifested in that lady’s service, had since led him to refrain from reiterating this assertion, he did not feel assured that it was wholly unfounded. His suspicion, indeed, though he was silent, occurred to him often, and time rather lent it confirmation, than wore it away. On the present occasion, Bernard’s disordered manner, which his haste and agitation had led him to overlook, reminded Adam so forcibly of the bearing of his adversary in the affair of the robbers, that his suspicion burst all restraint, and he quite started under its resistless pressure.
Bernard, though he had observed him closely, took no notice of his embarrassment at the moment; but first passed into the hall, and closed the street-door.
“What ails thee?” he then demanded of Adam.
“Art thou he?” inquired Adam, in reply.
“No other,” answered Bernard, calmly.
“What brings thee here, then?” asked Adam, passionately. “Hast thou not harmed us enow?”
“Hold thee there!” answered Bernard. “I have repented me. As thou keepest peace in this matter, so shall it be measured to thy master. Will that content thee?”