"I don't suppose he knows more than I do, and it is doubtful whether he has had so rough a time."
"Then in that case he picks your brains."
"What do you mean?"
The young fellow looked at me with those clear grey eyes which were his most attractive feature.
"Nothing," I answered, "nothing; only if you will be guided by a man nearly double your age, I would take care to tell Wickham as little as possible. Have you ever observed that he happens to be about when you and I are engaged in serious conversation?"
"I can't say that I have."
"Well, keep your eyes open and you'll see what I mean. Be as friendly as you like, but don't give him your confidence—that is all."
"You are rather late in advising me on that score," said Cressley, with a somewhat nervous laugh. "Wickham knows all about the old Hall by this time."
"And your superstitious fears with regard to the turret room?" I queried.
"Well, I have hinted at them. You will be surprised, but he is full of sympathy."