"Yes, Miss Carice, it's just that," answered Rosa, impressively. "It's in Mr. Arling's room. He's here."
"Here!" Carice started, and turned round with eager, expectant eyes.
"No, no," Rosa hastened to say, "not here,—at least, not now."
"Not now," repeated Carice, wonderingly. "When was he here, then?"
Rosa hesitated for an instant, and then flung herself at her mistress's feet. "I will tell you," she cried, vehemently,—"master may kill me, if he likes, but I will tell you! Mr. Arling was here not much more than half an hour ago."
Carice smiled,—a strange, wan smile, with no spirit of mirthfulness in it, but something of gentle triumph, as well as relief. "It was no fancy, then," she murmured, softly.
Rosa went on. "I was walking down by the river—with Tom, you know—when I thought it must be getting late, and you might want me, and so I took the short cut through the larches. And who should I see standing there but Mr. Arling, and your father coming to meet him! So I slipped back behind the trees, meaning to come round the other way; but I caught a few words, and then I listened;—I couldn't help it, Miss Carice, if I'd died for it. For Mr. Arling began to beg and plead that your father wouldn't let your wedding go on, if he cared anything about your happiness. He said there was something dreadful against Doctor Remy,—oh! Miss Carice, I don't like to say it, but I think you ought to know,—he said he was a"—sinking her voice almost to a whisper—"a murderer."
Carice's eyes dilated with horror. "A murderer!" she gasped,—"oh! no, no, Rosa; you could not have heard him right!"
"Indeed I did," rejoined Rosa, firmly. "That's the very word he used,—more than once, too. At least, he said there was great reason to believe so; and he begged your father to wait until he could make sure about it. Oh! Miss Carice, I never did like Doctor Remy, but I always liked Mr. Arling, and I don't believe he'd say a word that wasn't true. Do pray wait, as he said, until you can find out the whole truth, before you have anything more to say to the doctor. Lock your door, and say you're sick—I'm sure you look as if you might be—and I'll promise to keep him out, if he were ten Doctor Remys."
And Rosa set her teeth and clenched her hands, in a way that promised much for her valor in the cause of her young mistress.