"The alleged murderer, you mean, doctor," said the Black, emphatically. "And now prepare yourself to hear an amazing revelation—for the young creature who found an asylum at Finchley Manor, is the daughter of that alleged murderer, and her name is Rosamond."
"But surely she could not have been in any way implicated——"
"Patience, doctor—patience," said the Black. "On hearing last night of the arrest of Mr. Torrens, I immediately dispatched Cæsar to Finchley with a note to Mr. de Medina, containing the sad intelligence; and I find by letters which I have just received," he added, glancing towards the documents which lay open on the table, "that the news were broken as delicately as possible to the unhappy girl: nevertheless, she is, as you may suppose, a prey to the most lively grief; and it has been with the greatest difficulty that Mr. de Medina and Esther have restrained her from flying to Newgate to console her father. Let me now relate her history to you."
The Black then detailed those incidents in connexion with Rosamond, which are already known to the reader—save and except the dreadful fact that Mr. Torrens had sold his daughter's virtue to Sir Henry Courtenay; for though the unhappy girl had confessed the outrage which had been perpetrated on her, she knew not—as the reader will remember—that her own father had been an accomplice in the fearful deed.
"I have now some further explanations to give you, doctor," continued the Black; "and then I shall have completed my long, long preface to the business which induced me to request your presence here now. In pursuance of that grand and difficult project, the nature of which is so well known to you, I resolved to enlist one of Old Death's confederates, or rather instruments, in my own service. Accordingly, last night, as soon as I had dispatched Cæsar to Finchley with the note containing the intelligence of Mr. Torrens' arrest, I went into the Borough, and watched in the neighbourhood of Old Death's lodgings: for I informed you a few days ago, if you recollect, that Cæsar had succeeded in discovering the abode of that terrible man. Well, I kept not my watch uselessly; for I soon beheld three men enter the house in Horsemonger Lane, individually and at short intervals. Two of them were unknown to me—although I have since found that their names were by no means unfamiliar; but the third was a fellow of whom I knew something. This was John Jeffreys—once a servant in the employ of Sir Christopher Blunt. Now it immediately struck me that this was the very man who would suit my purposes; for he is crafty—intelligent—and always ready to serve the best paymaster. I accordingly resolved to enlist him in my employ; and to this determination I was the more readily brought, because I felt convinced that mischief was brewing under the auspices of Old Death. The fact of the three men arriving so mysteriously—singly and at short intervals, on the same evening, evidently by appointment—and the length of time they remained in the place, were sufficient arguments to prove to a far less experienced person than myself, that a council of desperate men was being held for no good purposes. It was not until past three this morning, that the villains separated. I had already made up my mind how to act, and a hackney-coach was ordered by me to wait beneath the wall of Horsemonger Lane. I fancied that Old Death's visitors would depart singly as they had arrived; and my expectations were so far realised that Jeffreys went off by himself. I resolved to follow him home first—for I suspected that he lived at no great distance; because, I thought that if I could not succeed in inducing him to accompany me, I should at least know where to find him on another occasion. At his own door I accosted him; and, by working on his fears by means of my mysterious behaviour, as well as by holding out to him vague threats that I was prepared to carry him off by force, if he should resist me, I succeeded in bringing him blindfold to this house."
"Well done!" exclaimed the physician. "And so I presume you have regularly enlisted the respectable Mr. Jeffreys into your service—thereby securing the aid of a spy in the enemy's camp."
"The very object aimed at—the very point gained!," cried the Black, "Jeffreys, under the joint influence of bribery and menaces, is completely mine: and he gave me proofs of his fidelity by revealing to me many interesting matters. Indeed, it was providentially fortunate that I got him into my power and service just at this particular time; as you shall judge for yourself."
He then related the details of the damnable conspiracy planned by Old Death, and to be executed by his myrmidons, against the peace of the Earl of Ellingham and the happiness of Lady Hatfield and Esther de Medina.
"This man is a perfect monster!" ejaculated Dr. Lascelles indignantly. "How is it possible that you can have any forbearance, my dear friend? Set your retainers to watch for him—have him captured—and lock him up for life in one of the dungeons which he himself doubtless rendered serviceable to his own purposes on more than one occasion."
"Patience, doctor," said the Black: "nothing must be done rashly nor without due consideration. Besides, you are well aware that my object is to endeavour to reform that bad man——"