A sneering smile curled the lip of the peer, but he made no observation upon the information he received. "Did you not go down with him to Holyhead, on his way to embark for America from some Irish port?" demanded Lord Dewry; "I think I have heard so."
"No, my lord, no," replied Sir Roger; "I met him at Holyhead by accident. I had just come over from Ireland, where I had been to settle a little affair with a man in Dublin. I lent Sir William one of my horses to go out to see some gipsies--what the devil business he had with them I could never tell--but the horse threw him and broke his ribs, and hurt himself into the bargain; but a gipsy fellow, the best farrier I ever saw, cured him in a week--the horse, I mean; but I believe they cured Sir William too, for I left him in their hands recovering fast; I myself being obliged to be at Newmarket before he could get out of his bed."
"I thought I remembered something of the transaction," said the peer. "Sir William Ryder, with whom I was in some correspondence at that time, in regard to the very debt of which we were speaking, wrote to me that he had seen you there, and mentioned the accident your horse had met with. But now tell me, Sir Roger, did you not receive from the gipsy farrier a bank-note, in change for money given him in payment?"
"No, my lord, not that I remember," said the knight; "faith, I have forgot what I gave him, and all about it."
"Recollect yourself, Sir Roger," said Lord Dewry; "I think, if you remember right, you will find that he gave you in change a note, which you afterward gave to me when we last settled our accounts together, about six months after I succeeded to this property."
"Nay, nay, my lord," said the knight, "your lordship is not right there: it was you gave me the money; I gave you none. It was a round sum, you know, my lord."
Lord Dewry bit his lip, and Sir Roger Millington could hear his foot stamp upon the carpet under the table with impatience at his contradiction. In truth, the noble lord did not at all desire to be driven to explanations, though, in fact, the dark and fearful scheme which his mind had formed for the purpose of delivering himself from all fear for ever was too deep and intricate to be understood by him whom he intended for his tool in accomplishing it, without a much fuller knowledge of the subject than the knight possessed.
"You do not understand me," cried the peer, hastily; "you will not understand me, Sir Roger! Mark me, now!" and then, after thinking for a moment, he proceeded in a stern, determined tone, and with a dark, contracted brow:--"You remember my succeeding to this property, Sir Roger; and you remember the circumstances of my brother's unfortunate death? The only person who saw the--the business was a gipsy; and at the time some circumstances made it appear so strongly probable that that gipsy had been himself the--the murderer, that Mr. Arden--old Mr. Arden, who is still living--wished to commit him. I, however, foolishly would believe nothing of the story, as this very gipsy had always been a protégé of my brother's, and he was liberated. A number of small particulars, however, afterward appeared to make me regret my obstinacy, and to convince me that the villain was really the assassin of my poor brother. I had him sought for in vain; and all the news I could learn of him was, that he had sailed from Holyhead for Ireland. There I lost sight of him, till a few days ago, when I suddenly met him in the park; and I have since learned that he is lingering about in the neighbourhood of my other place at Dimden. I have laid a trap for him: we shall catch him this very night; and, if it cost me half my fortune, I will bring him to justice."
"Your lordship is right, very right," exclaimed Sir Roger Millington; "but I do not see--"
"Listen to me, Sir Roger, and you shall see," replied the peer: "I doubt not that I shall be able to convict him; but if my recollections are right, and can be supported by yours, his conviction is certain. My brother at his death had a large sum of money on his person. One of those notes, marked with his name, in his own handwriting, has since come into my possession; and I am sure that I received it from you, while I feel almost sure that you received it from the gipsy!" He spoke the last words slowly and emphatically, and then added, rapidly and sternly, "Now, what I want you to do, Sir Roger, is to recollect yourself, and--if you can remember the facts of your having received the note and given it to me--to be prepared to swear to those facts, should it be necessary."