"And my grandfather?" I faltered, a thickness in my throat.
"My dear boy," answered Mrs. Manners, gently, "he thinks you dead. But you have written him?" she added hurriedly.
I nodded. "From Dumfries."
"He will have the letter soon," she said cheerfully. "I thank Heaven I am able to tell you that his health is remarkable under the circumstances. But he will not quit the house, and sees no one except your uncle, who is with him constantly."
It was what I expected. But the confirmation of it brought me to my feet in a torrent of indignation, exclaiming:
"The villain! You tell me he will allow Mr. Carvel to see no one?"
She started forward, laying her hand on my arm, and Dorothy gave a little cry.
"What are you saying, Richard? What are you saying?"
"Mrs. Manners," I answered, collecting myself, "I must tell you that I believe it is Grafton Carvel himself that is responsible for my abduction. He meant that I should be murdered."
Then Dorothy rose, her eyes flashing and her head high.