"Yes, yes! Allow me to proceed. She told me that the letters were written on dirty scraps of paper, by an uneducated person."
"But my grandmother would do nothing to harm me.
"My dear Lovel," said Paul, coolly, "no doubt by informing Herne of your meetings she thought that she was acting in your interests. Remember, she wanted you to marry Miss Clyde; well, if she could have got Herne to stop your meetings with Milly, she no doubt fancied you would cease loving the poor girl, and consent to make Miss Clyde your wife."
"Admitting that, what about the prophecy?"
"Oh, knowing that Milly was deceiving Herne, the old gipsy fancied she might take the law into her own hands, and kill her; hence the prophecy about a violent death."
"My dear Mexton, all this is pure theory."
"True. I am waiting to hear you state the facts of the case."
"You shall," said Lovel, resuming his seat. "And, pray, attention, please! You may be able to make more out of the matter than I. On that night I met Milly in the Winding Lane about a quarter past eight. We walked up to the stile at the end where the lane goes out into the common. While walking I saw Brent, and bribed him to say nothing."
"You paid him well," interjected Paul--"five pounds."
"I did not pay him at all on that night," replied Lovel, gloomily, "but next day, after the murder. I told him that I was innocent, but in peril, and gave him five pounds, with the promise of more when he wanted it."