"Good heavens! sir, I see what you mean," said Terence. "I never thought of that."
"He was mad, Terence, hopelessly mad, and therefore not responsible for his actions. Poor Miss Decie!"
"Aye, poor young lady. If she was so fond of the old gentleman, it would break her heart to know what he has been trying to do."
"She must never know," said Jim, who by this time had made up his mind. "I can trust you, Terence."
"To the death, sir, and I think you know it. I've served you, sir, and I served your father before you, and I don't think you ever found me wanting. Tell me what you think of doing."
"We must get him back to his own house, if possible," said Jim, "and let him be found dead there. No one but our two selves will know the truth, and if we keep silence, no one need ever know that we found him here. I cannot let Miss Decie be made more unhappy than she is."
"I don't know but that you are right, sir," Terence answered. "But how are we going to get him to the Dower House?"
"We must go along the passage and see where it leads to. If I am not mistaken it will take us there. This place must have been made years ago, when the two properties were one. We will leave the body here, and, if I am right in my conjecture, we can come back for it."
They accordingly allowed the remains of Mr. Bursfield to lie where they had found them, and proceeded on their tour of exploration. As it transpired, they had still a considerable distance to go before they reached the end of the tunnel. At last, however, they found themselves at the foot of a flight of stone steps, similar to those by which they had descended at the Manor House.
"Tread very quietly," Jim whispered to his companion. "We must on no account rouse the servants."