“But the others—his present confederates?”
“They are new to me. He must have fellow-rogues, be sure, to whom he will confide—not like that other whom they murdered, who was of those few giants of crime that can be a tower of strength to themselves.”
“Why, my good soul I could swear to a note of enthusiasm in your voice.”
“Oh, sir! ’tis nothing but the natural homage of the weak to the strong; such as I would fain pay to my new master, would he let me.”
“No flattery. And so Mr. Fern turned up again?”
“It was the very day before your arrival that I first saw him. The thatch of his white hairs might not deceive me. And I thought I should ha’ died. After all those years! And the place gone to ruin in that long space, and only I its keeper. For this the fearful man had found out; but not of your coming, that should upset his plans—else had I been likely stiff by this time and rotting underground in some secret hole.”
“And he sought to bribe you?”
“He hath wrought upon me with menaces and promise of reward either to reveal the stone’s hiding-place—which he misdoubts I wot not of—or to give him secret search-warrant during your absences.”
“Yet I must wonder how he ventured to assume your infidelity, nor dreaded you would acquaint me of all.”
“Ah, sir! had he not known me in the pay of that other, his master? the which he used to threaten me, never doubting my old complicity.”