"Wilton," said his master, "remain here, and keep watch upon this person,"—pointing to the sleeper. "When he awakes, ring the bell."
The servant bowed obedience to these instructions; and the Black left the room.
Several hours had passed away, and it was three o'clock in the afternoon.
Cæsar had returned with letters for his master, who had scarcely made an end of their perusal when Dr. Lascelles was announced.
"Well, my dear friend," said the physician, "what new scheme have you now in view? in what new project do you require my assistance?"
"Sit down, Doctor, and listen to me attentively," observed the Black; "for many and strange incidents have occurred since I saw you last. But perhaps you have been to Finchley; and in that case, one of those circumstances to which I allude will have been made known to you."
"No, my dear friend," replied Dr. Lascelles, depositing his hat and gloves on one chair and himself in another: "I have not had time to call upon the Medinas since they removed to their country residence. I have been experimentalising on a most splendid brain which the surgeon of St. Bartholomew's Hospital was kind enough to send me as a present. But of what nature is the circumstance of which I should have heard at Finchley, had I called? Nothing disagreeable, I hope?"
"I will explain it to you in as few words as possible," answered the Black, seating himself opposite to the physician. "The day before yesterday—at about five o'clock in the evening—Mr. de Medina and Esther were walking along the high road in the immediate vicinity of the Manor, to which they had removed, as you are well aware, in the morning, when they saw a beautiful young creature sitting on the step of a stile, and evidently a prey to the most heart-rending anguish. They accosted her—spoke kindly to her—and at length induced her to tell just so much of her sorrowful tale as to enlist their warmest sympathies in her behalf. They took her to the Manor; but on their arrival, the poor girl was so overcome by illness, fatigue, and distress of mind, that Esther insisted on her retiring to rest. Yesterday morning she was so far recovered as to render it unnecessary to send for you in your medical capacity; and Esther assured her that she might not only look upon the Manor as her home, but that she should be treated with all the kindness, attention, and respect, due to her misfortunes. It then appears that the poor creature made a confidant of Esther, and revealed her entire story, which shows how deeply she is to be pitied, and how cruel were the circumstances that had driven her from her home, and made her resolve to fly from London as from a city of pestilence. The entire details of that story I will give you presently. Yesterday afternoon I repaired to the Manor, and the particulars connected with the young lady were confidentially narrated to me by Mr. de Medina. Last night the metropolis rang with the rumours of a dreadful murder having been discovered——"
"The assassination of Sir Henry Courtenay," remarked the physician; "and the murderer, a gentleman named Torrens, is in Newgate."