It fell from his hands, and he rose from his chair and paced the room.
‘Curse him!’ he muttered. ‘Why couldn’t he stay where he was? Have I not suffered enough already, that this scoundrel must turn up to be the terror of my life?—now, now, when at last I had begun to feel secure.’
He picked up the letter and read it carefully again:
‘Dear Sir,
‘Heckett is back. From what I have discovered he means mischief. I ought to see you at once.’
‘How dared he come back?’ exclaimed the squire angrily. ‘He cannot have found out the trick played upon him. What does Preene mean by “he means mischief”? What has he discovered? Ah! I must see Preene at ones. I wouldn’t have an unknown danger hanging over my head now for worlds. It would kill me.’
The squire sat moodily in his chair and gazed across the broad acres that were his. He would have given them all to be free at this moment from the dread which had once again taken possession of his breast.
‘Poor Ruth!’ he murmured; ‘if she only kuew what a miserable wretch I am! How I play an odious comedy every time I smile! I must see Preene and know the worst.’
He sat down to his desk and commenced a letter, bidding Preene come down; but before it was finished he tore it up and flung it into the fire.
‘Better not,’ he muttered; ‘this place has never been polluted yet by any of the gang except myself. I’ll keep it pure as long as I can.’