I suppose his physical power and angry mood awed me, for I forgot my determination to solve the mystery—forgot my own rights, and hurried precipitately down the stairs.
CHAPTER XVII.
With my mind filled with dreadful forebodings, I reached my own private chamber, entered it, and bolted the door, that I might consider, undisturbed, the best course of action to pursue under these fearful suspicions that haunted me. Hour after hour passed as I sat thus absorbed in thought which seemed to turn my very hair gray from its intensity.
I heard Richard descend the stairs and go out into the street. Not long; after this the door-bell rang violently and the servant knocked at my door to say that a gentleman in the drawing-room wished to see me. Smoothing my hair and arranging my toilet, I obeyed the summons, but started back on discovering the stranger to be no other than Mr. Bristed. He pressed my hands and said:
“Agnes, can I converse with you in private here a few moments?”
My first surprise over, I answered, “Come with me; we will not be disturbed here.” Withdrawing to a small room adjoining, he drew forward an ottoman and seating himself beside me, said:
“Agnes, Herbert is missing; can you tell me where I can find him?”
“Herbert missing!” said I with a shudder.
“Yes,” said he, “I have heard, Agnes, that a gentleman visits you whom I surmise to be my brother, and, if so, I thought perhaps you would know through him of Herbert’s place of hiding.”
“Has Herbert left you?” said I. “Tell me—what do you mean, Mr. Bristed?”