“Well, he pretends that he is my guardian, and declares that he has the same right over me as if he were my father.”
“But, Miss Dalton, what nonsense this is! You can not be in earnest—and yet you must be.”
“In earnest!” repeated Edith, with vehemence. “Oh, Lieutenant Dudleigh, this is the sorrow of my life—so much so that I throw myself upon the sympathy of a perfect stranger. I am desperate, and ready to do any thing to escape—”
“Miss Dalton,” said Dudleigh, solemnly, “your wrongs must be great indeed if this is so. Your guardian! But what then? Does that give him the right to be your jailer?”
“He takes the right.”
“Who is this man?”
“His name is Wiggins.”
“Wiggins? Wiggins? Why, it must be the steward. Wiggins? Why, I saw him yesterday. Wiggins? What! That scoundrel? that blackleg? that villain who was horsewhipped at Epsom? Why, the man is almost an outlaw. It seemed to me incredible when I heard he was steward here; but when you tell me that he is your guardian it really is too much. It must be some scoundrelly trick of his—some forgery of documents.”
“So I believe,” said Edith, “and so I told him to his own face. But how did you get in here? Wiggins never allows any one to come here but his own friends.”
“Well,” said Dudleigh, “I did have a little difficulty, but not much—it was rather of a preliminary character. The fact is, I came here more than a week ago on a kind of tour. I heard of Dalton Hall, and understood enough of Sir Lionel's affairs to know that you were his niece; and as there had been an old difficulty, I thought I couldn't do better than call and see what sort of a person you were, so as to judge whether a reconciliation might not be brought about. I came here three days ago, and that beggar of a porter wouldn't let me in. The next day I came back, and found Wiggins, and had some talk with him. He said something or other about your grief and seclusion and so forth; but I knew the scoundrel was lying, so I just said to him, 'See here now, Wiggins, I know you of old, and there is one little affair of yours that I know all about—you understand what I mean. You think you are all safe here; but there are some people who could put you to no end of trouble if they chose. I'm going in through those gates, and you must open them.' That's what I told him, and when I came to-day the gates were opened for me. But do you really mean to say that this villain prevents your going out?”