By this time Atherton was fully attired, and everything fitted him—even to the boots, which he had got out of the cupboard.
"Why, I declare, you are the very image of your father!" exclaimed Markland, as he gazed at him in astonishment. "If I had not known who you are, I should have thought Sir Oswald had come to life again. If any of the old servants should see you, you will certainly be taken for a ghost."
"That's exactly what I should desire," replied Atherton; "and should it be necessary, I shall endeavour to keep up the character. However, I don't mean to qualify myself for the part by eating nothing, so pour me out a cup of chocolate."
The butler obeyed, and Atherton sat down and made a very good breakfast.
Before he had quite finished his repast, the butler left him, and did not reappear.
CHAPTER IV.
AN ENEMY IN THE HOUSE.
Not having anything better to do, Atherton began to wander about the deserted suite of apartments, with which his own chamber communicated by a side door.
As the windows were closed, the rooms looked very dark, and he could see but little, and what he did see, impressed him with a melancholy feeling; but the furthest room in the suite looked lighter and more cheerful than the others, simply because the shutters had been opened.
It was a parlour, but most of the furniture had been removed, and only a few chairs and a table were left.
Atherton sat down, and was ruminating upon his position, when a door behind was softly opened—so very softly that he heard no sound.