"And old Lady Alice saw him in Wardlock Church, and was made quite ill," said the Baronet gloomily. "But you know he's gone these thirty years; and there is no necromancy now-a-days; only I wish you would take any opportunity, and try and make out all about him, and what they want. I brought them here to pump them, by Jove; but that old fellow seems deuced reserved and wary. Only, like a good fellow, if you can find or make an opportunity, you must get the young fellow on the subject—for I don't care to tell you, Dives, I have been devilish uneasy about it. There are things that make me confoundedly uncomfortable; and I have a sort of foreboding it would have been better for me to have blown up this house than to have come here; but ten to one—a hundred to one—there's nothing, and I'm only a fool."
As they thus talked they entered the gate of the stable-yard.
CHAPTER XVI.
Containing a Variety of Things.
"Guy Deverell left no issue," said Dives.
"No; none in the world; neither chick nor child. I need not care a brass farthing about any that can't inherit, if there were any; but there isn't one; there's no real danger, you see. In fact, there can't be any—eh? I don't see it. Do you? You were a sharp fellow always, Dives. Can you see anything threatening in it?"
"It! What?" said the Rev. Dives Marlowe. "I see nothing—nothing whatever—absolutely nothing. Surely you can't fancy that a mere resemblance, however strong, where there can't possibly be identity, and the fact that the young man's name is Guy, will make a case for alarm!"
"Guy Strangways, you know," said Sir Jekyl.
"Well, what of Strangways? I don't see."