"I cannot bear this suspense," he cried aloud and abruptly. "I will see Harley myself. Open as he is, the very sound of his voice will tell me at once if I am a bankrupt even of human friendship. If that friendship be secure, if Harley yet clasp my hand with the same cordial warmth, all other loss shall not wring from my fortitude one complaint."
He rang the bell; his valet, who was waiting in the anteroom, appeared.
"Go and see if Lord L'Estrange is engaged. I would speak with him."
The servant came back in less than two minutes.
"I find that my Lord is now particularly engaged, since he has given strict orders that he is not to be disturbed."
"Engaged! on what, whom with?"
"He is in his own room, sir, with a clergyman, who arrived, and dined here, to-day. I am told that he was formerly curate of Lansmere."
"Lansmere! curate! His name, his name! Not Dale?"
"Yes, sir, that is the name,—the Reverend Mr. Dale."
"Leave me," said Audley, in a faint voice. "Dale! the man who suspected Harley, who called on me in London, spoke of a child,—my child,—and sent me to find but another grave! He closeted with Harley,—he!"