“Mrs. Gifford,” said he, in a tone of friendly confidence, “I am about to visit Paris, and therefore thought it necessary to see you for a few moments, previous to my departure. Not that I need recommend my beloved child to your care—for I am well assured that you watch over her safety and her happiness as zealously as if she were your own daughter.”
“Your lordship—” began the housekeeper, in a tone of the deepest respect.
“Hush!” exclaimed he whom we must still call Mr. Vernon, in spite of the aristocratic title by which Mrs. Gifford had addressed him: “remember that walls have ears, my good friend! I was about to observe to you that Agnes, through the amiable confidence and ingenuousness which are natural to her, has allowed two strangers,—one a few evenings ago—the other this very night,—to intrude themselves upon her; and I tremble lest their motive be a bad one. The gardener and his assistant invariably sleep in the out-house, I hope?”
“Yes, my—I mean, sir,” answered Mrs. Gifford; “and they are resolute, determined men, who would not permit plunderers to enter these premises with impunity.”
“Good!” exclaimed Mr. Vernon. “Did you yourself see the old man who called here the other night?”
“I did not, sir,” replied Mrs. Gifford. “But Jane assured me his appearance was that of a man worn down with old age, wretchedness, and poverty, rather than of an evil-intentioned person. Shall I tell your lord—shall I tell you, sir,” said the good woman, hastily correcting herself, “what is my impression relative to that old man? Why, sir,” she continued, perceiving that Mr. Vernon nodded approvingly, “it struck me that it might be that Mr. Torrens, who used to live here many, many years ago, and of whom we heard such dreadful tales shortly after your lord—I mean, shortly after you bought the cottage.”
“But those tales—has Agnes learnt them?—have they reached her ears?” demanded Mr. Vernon, hastily: “because they might terrify and alarm her.”
“No, sir—she is entirely ignorant of all the legends attached to this house,” was the reply; “and it is not by any means likely that they can reach her ears. Jane is a discreet, good girl, and would not allude to them for worlds.”
“Thank God!” ejaculated Mr. Vernon; “for were Agnes to learn what we ourselves only heard after the entire purchase was concluded and you were located here,—were she to learn, I say, that a horrible murder had been committed in this house, I would at once procure her another dwelling. But you were speaking ere now about the very Torrens who was so unjustly accused of that foul crime.”
“I was observing, sir, that I fancied the old man who called here the other night might be he; for as Miss afterwards told me, he spoke of having lived here many years ago, and of the terrible misfortunes he had endured; and then he glanced round the parlour repeatedly, observing in an audible though anguished tone, ‘This is the very room—this is the very room!’ And this is the room,” continued Mrs. Gifford, “where the baronet was murdered; and therefore I conclude that the old man was none other than the wretched Torrens.”