It was so; and I had forgotten all about it. Forrester's knowledge of the dwarf was, therefore, antecedent to my own; and, curiously enough, it was my acquaintance with him that led to my introduction to the family. How very strangely these things seemed to come about, and to bring me back to the time when Forrester held my destiny in his power!—an age of exciting experiences, equal in emotion and reaction to a whole life-time, had passed in the interval, and here he was now returned suddenly, and sitting at my hearth, with the threads of my fate again in his hands!
I was all impatience to know whether the dwarf still lived, but was afraid to ask the question, or, rather, to betray my anxiety about it. Astræa, as usual, was more courageous.
"You have seen him, then? It was to him, I presume, the steward directed your inquiries?"
"Exactly so; but I must beg an indemnity for the man's zeal, if you think he did wrong in confiding his fears to me."
"These old servants," I replied, "will do things their own way. Pray go on. You saw him?"
"Yes, I saw him."
"How long since?"
"I left him only last night."
At these words, I took the liberty of indulging myself with a very long breath, which I certainly had not ventured upon since the beginning of this nervous conversation; and even Astræa, malgré her grand air of indifference, looked a little more at her ease.
"I will tell you every thing exactly as it happened. I came here to tell it to you, hoping I might be the means of rendering some service—at both sides. If I should say any thing painful to either, you must forgive me. My intention is not to inflict fresh wounds, but to heal old ones."