The temptation was great to respond aloud to the compliment; but I refrained, laughing within myself at the valuable information I was obtaining.
CHAPTER XVIII.
WORDS OF THE DEAD.
Justice is always vigilant—it stops not to weigh causes or motives, but overtakes the criminal, no matter whether his deeds be the suggestion of malice or the consequence of provoked revenge. I was all eagerness to face the pair in the full light and demand an explanation, yet I hesitated, fearing lest precipitation might prevent me gaining knowledge of the truth.
That they had no inclination to walk further was evident, for they still stood there in conversation, facing each other and speaking earnestly. I listened attentively to every word, my heart thumping so loudly that I wondered they did not hear its excited pulsations.
“You’ve seen nothing of Sir Bernard?” she was saying.
“Sir Bernard!” he echoed. “Why, of course not. To him I am dead and buried, just as I am to the rest of the world. My executors have proved my will at Somerset House, and very soon you will receive its benefits. To meet the old doctor would be to reveal the whole thing.”
“It is all so strange,” she said with a low sigh, “that sometimes, when I am alone, I can’t believe it to be true. We have deceived the world so completely.”