"Ay,—but there is something more than mysterious, and to that I have a clue," said he, impressively, while his stealthy eyes seemed to glare into mine, and I could not repress an emotion of discomfort and alarm.
"Indeed!" I exclaimed; "but in whatever way Mrs. Rose penned her will, she may have changed her mind before death."
"No, I do not think so; she was a woman who walked in the way of the Lord, and now dwells in peace for ever. She meant that all she possessed should become the inheritance of His servants, for His glory and their comfort," said he; and while canting thus, he ground his sharp teeth at the thought of all that had escaped him. "No, no,—she knew who was her light and her salvation."
"Do you mean the Reverend Mr. Pawkie?" I asked, innocently.
"Listen to me," said he; "you have been at Applewood frequently and unknown to me,—unknown for a time, at least. You have seen Miss Amy Lee in the woods and in the park——"
"I have been watched—followed!" I began, with a sudden glow of rage and just indignation, as I instantly saw some of the meaner clerks of the firm having been guilty of this act of espionage.
"How I came to know this, matters not—you do not deny the fact?"
"Most certainly I do not," said I; "and what then?"
"Simply this, my dear, deluded boy," he replied, pressing my arm with his long, lean, ugly fingers, while his sharp visage was lighted by such a smile as sin might wear on the threshold of hell; "I know that Miss Amy burned her aunt's will, lest overmuch of her earthly inheritance might go to the faithful servants of the Lord, and those who twice yearly serve at His tabernacle. I know that she burned the will, and that you were present when she did so. We have pretty ample proofs of the place, time, and circumstances; and if you will give me a holograph statement to this effect—a statement supposed to be written under emotions of remorse—I will give you a present of fifty guineas just now, and one hundred more after. I know, my dear young friend, that you are not like those of whom Paul wrote to Timothy, as 'given to wine, a striker, or greedy of filthy lucre, but patient and not covetous;' and through you I would seek the means of punishing this girl, to lead her, by chastisement, from the snares of the devil, who hath taken her captive—and from the life of sin and pleasure she leads, being, as the blessed scripture truly saith, really dead while she liveth. Do you understand me, my dear young man?"
I stood for a full minute in silence; for this ill-judged and barefaced combination of hypocrisy and temptation to crime filled me with such rage and confusion, that I knew not what to reply.