“Mr. Birchmore laughed.
“‘Well, you’re a pretty determined wooer,’ said he. ‘I can’t give my consent to the match, because—well, because I cannot; but if you won’t take No for an answer, nor profit by the warning I hereby give you, I’ll tell you what I will do. I will allow you yourself to discover and acknowledge the causes which make your marriage with Kate impossible. You must not blame me if the discovery gives you pain, and the acknowledgment causes you mortification. I have given you fair warning. And I will only add, sir, that the pain and mortification won’t be all on your side. I could not give you a stronger pledge of my friendship and liking for you than in thus letting you find out what has hitherto been hidden from all the world. And I only demand one condition—that you promise, when you have made your discovery, and left us, never to mention to any human being what our secret was.’
“‘I give that promise with pleasure. As to my leaving you of my own free will, that is—begging your pardon—impossible and absurd.’
“He laughed again, and shot another of his startling looks at me. ‘Very well, young sir, I’ve nothing more to say. Come with us to the farmhouse to-morrow; there’s plenty of room there, and they are used to being accommodating. Stay with us until you’re satisfied, and then—don’t forget your promise!’
“He rose as he finished speaking, and flung away the remains of his cigar.
“‘Good-night!’ he said, holding out his large well-shaped hand.
“‘Good-night! and thanks for your confidence, which you will never regret, Mr. Birchmore.’
“‘Qui vivra, verra!’ was all his answer, as he walked away, with his hands in his coat-pockets and his singular short steps. He was an enigma sure enough, and yet my belief in him was as intuitive and inalienable as in Kate herself. His mysterious hints and warnings were powerless to disturb me: I trusted in the ability of us three combined to overthrow any antagonist. I sat late beneath the trees, smoking, and brooding over my passion, as young men will, and ever and anon glancing up at a certain window, behind the lamp-illumined curtain of which I had reason to suppose my darling was. Was she thinking of me now? Even as I asked myself this, and gazed upwards, a shadow fell upon the curtain; it was pushed aside, and the window was swung back on its hinges.
“With a throb of the heart I sprang to my feet and wafted a kiss from my finger-tips towards the face that peeped out upon me. Stay! was it Kate’s face after all? The arms and shoulders now appeared, and the form leant upon the window-sill. A lucifer-match flashed, and I had the pleasure of beholding the sinister visage of Mr. Slurk lit up by a sulphurous gleam, as he leisurely lit his pipe and stared down at me.