Anthony hesitated; at last he said,—
“You see, master’s secrets are not my secrets, and, after the oath I have sworn,”—
“It may be, however, that his safety depends upon your frankness in telling me all,” said the lawyer. “You may be sure he will not blame you for having spoken.”
For several seconds the old servant remained undecided; then he said,—
“Master, they say, has had a great love-affair.”
“When?”
“I do not know when. That was before I entered his service. All I know is, that, for the purpose of meeting the person, master had bought at Passy, at the end of Vine Street, a beautiful house, in the centre of a large garden, which he had furnished magnificently.”
“Ah!”
“That is a secret, which, of course, neither master’s father nor his mother knows to this day; and I only know it, because one day master fell down the steps, and dislocated his foot, so that he had to send for me to nurse him. He may have bought the house under his own name; but he was not known by it there. He passed for an Englishmen, a Mr. Burnett; and he had an English maid-servant.”
“And the person?”