"I got invited to Sir Jervis's house," Alban resumed, "bytreating the old savage as unceremoniously as he had treated me.'That's an idle trade of yours,' he said, looking at my sketch.'Other ignorant people have made the same remark,' I answered. Herode away, as if he was not used to be spoken to in that manner,and then thought better of it, and came back. 'Do you understandwood engraving?' he asked. 'Yes.' 'And etching?' 'I havepracticed etching myself.' 'Are you a Royal Academician?' 'I'm adrawing-master at a ladies' school.' 'Whose school?' 'MissLadd's.' 'Damn it, you know the girl who ought to have been mysecretary.' I am not quite sure whether you will take it as acompliment--Sir Jervis appeared to view you in the light of areference to my respectability. At any rate, he went on with hisquestions. 'How long do you stop in these parts?' 'I haven't madeup my mind.' 'Look here; I want to consult you--are youlistening?' 'No; I'm sketching.' He burst into a horrid scream. Iasked if he felt himself taken ill. 'Ill?' he said--'I'mlaughing.' It was a diabolical laugh, in one syllable--not 'ha!ha! ha!' only 'ha!'--and it made him look wonderfully like thateminent person, whom I persist in thinking he resembles. 'You'rean impudent dog,' he said; 'where are you living?' He was sodelighted when he heard of my uncomfortable position in thekennel-bedroom, that he offered his hospitality on the spot. 'Ican't go to you in such a pigstye as that,' he said; 'you mustcome to me. What's your name?' 'Alban Morris; what's yours?''Jervis Redwood. Pack up your traps when you've done your job,and come and try my kennel. There it is, in a corner of yourdrawing, and devilish like, too.' I packed up my traps, and Itried his kennel. And now you have had enough of Sir JervisRedwood."

"Not half enough!" Emily answered. "Your story leaves off just atthe interesting moment. I want you to take me to Sir Jervis'shouse."

"And I want you, Miss Emily, to take me to the British Museum.Don't let me startle you! When I called here earlier in the day,I was told that you had gone to the reading-room. Is your readinga secret?"

His manner, when he made that reply, suggested to Emily thatthere was some foregone conclusion in his mind, which he wasputting to the test. She answered without alluding to theimpression which he had produced on her.

"My reading is no secret. I am only consulting old newspapers."

He repeated the last words to himself. "Old newspapers?" hesaid--as if he was not quite sure of having rightly understoodher.

She tried to help him by a more definite reply.

"I am looking through old newspapers," she resumed, "beginningwith the year eighteen hundred and seventy-six."

"And going back from that time," he asked eagerly; "to earlierdates still?"

"No--just the contrary--advancing from 'seventy-six' to thepresent time."

He suddenly turned pale--and tried to hide his face from her bylooking out of the window. For a moment, his agitation deprivedhim of his presence of mind. In that moment, she saw that she hadalarmed him.

"What have I said to frighten you?" she asked.

He tried to assume a tone of commonplace gallantry. "There arelimits even to your power over me," he replied. "Whatever elseyou may do, you can never frighten me. Are you searching thoseold newspapers with any particular object in view?"

"Yes."

"May I know what it is?"

"May I know why I frightened you?"

He began to walk up and down the room again--then checked himselfabruptly, and appealed to her mercy.

"Don't be hard on me," he pleaded. "I am so fond of you--oh,forgive me! I only mean that it distresses me to have anyconcealments from you. If I could open my whole heart at thismoment, I shou ld be a happier man."

She understood him and believed him. "My curiosity shall neverembarrass you again," she answered warmly. "I won't even rememberthat I wanted to hear how you got on in Sir Jervis's house."

His gratitude seized the opportunity of taking her harmlesslyinto his confidence. "As Sir Jervis's guest," he said, "myexperience is at your service. Only tell me how I can interestyou."

She replied, with some hesitation, "I should like to know whathappened when you first saw Mrs. Rook." To her surprise andrelief, he at once complied with her wishes.

"We met," he said, "on the evening when I first entered thehouse. Sir Jervis took me into the dining-room--and there satMiss Redwood, with a large black cat on her lap. Older than herbrother, taller than her brother, leaner than her brother--withstrange stony eyes, and a skin like parchment--she looked (if Imay speak in contradictions) like a living corpse. I waspresented, and the corpse revived. The last lingering relics offormer good breeding showed themselves faintly in her brow and inher smile. You will hear more of Miss Redwood presently. In themeanwhile, Sir Jervis made me reward his hospitality byprofessional advice. He wished me to decide whether the artistswhom he had employed to illustrate his wonderful book had cheatedhim by overcharges and bad work--and Mrs. Rook was sent to fetchthe engravings from his study upstairs. You remember herpetrified appearance, when she first read the inscription on yourlocket? The same result followed when she found herself face toface with me. I saluted her civilly--she was deaf and blind to mypoliteness. Her master snatched the illustrations out of herhand, and told her to leave the room. She stood stockstill,staring helplessly. Sir Jervis looked round at his sister; and Ifollowed his example. Miss Redwood was observing the housekeepertoo attentively to notice anything else; her brother was obligedto speak to her. 'Try Rook with the bell,' he said. Miss Redwoodtook a fine old bronze hand-bell from the table at her side, andrang it. At the shrill silvery sound of the bell, Mrs. Rook puther hand to her head as if the ringing had hurt her--turnedinstantly, and left us. 'Nobody can manage Rook but my sister,'Sir Jervis explained; 'Rook is crazy.' Miss Redwood differed withhim. 'No!' she said. Only one word, but there were volumes ofcontradiction in it. Sir Jervis looked at me slyly; meaning,perhaps, that he thought his sister crazy too. The dinner wasbrought in at the same moment, and my attention was diverted toMrs. Rook's husband."

"What was he like?" Emily asked.

"I really can't tell you; he was one of those essentiallycommonplace persons, whom one never looks at a second time. Hisdress was shabby, his head was bald, and his hands shook when hewaited on us at table--and that is all I remember. Sir Jervis andI feasted on salt fish, mutton, and beer. Miss Redwood had coldbroth, with a wine-glass full of rum poured into it by Mr. Rook.'She's got no stomach,' her brother informed me; 'hot things comeup again ten minutes after they have gone down her throat; shelives on that beastly mixture, and calls it broth-grog!' MissRedwood sipped her elixir of life, and occasionally looked at mewith an appearance of interest which I was at a loss tounderstand. Dinner being over, she rang her antique bell. Theshabby old man-servant answered her call. 'Where's your wife?'she inquired. 'Ill, miss.' She took Mr. Rook's arm to go out, andstopped as she passed me. 'Come to my room, if you please, sir,to-morrow at two o'clock,' she said. Sir Jervis explained again:'She's all to pieces in the morning' (he invariably called hissister 'She'); 'and gets patched up toward the middle of the day.Death has forgotten her, that's about the truth of it.' Helighted his pipe and pondered over the hieroglyphics found amongthe ruined cities of Yucatan; I lighted my pipe, and read theonly book I could find in the dining-room--a dreadful record ofshipwrecks and disasters at sea. When the room was full oftobacco-smoke we fell asleep in our chairs--and when we awokeagain we got up and went to bed. There is the true story of myfirst evening at Redwood Hall."

Emily begged him to go on. "You have interested me in MissRedwood," she said. "You kept your appointment, of course?"

"I kept my appointment in no very pleasant humor. Encouraged bymy favorable report of the illustrations which he had submittedto my judgment, Sir Jervis proposed to make me useful to him in anew capacity. 'You have nothing particular to do,' he said,'suppose you clean my pictures?' I gave him one of my blacklooks, and made no other reply. My interview with his sistertried my powers of self-command in another way. Miss Redwooddeclared her purpose in sending for me the moment I entered theroom. Without any preliminary remarks--speaking slowly andemphatically, in a wonderfully strong voice for a woman of herage--she said, 'I have a favor to ask of you, sir. I want you totell me what Mrs. Rook has done.' I was so staggered that Istared at her like a fool. She went on: 'I suspected Mrs. Rook,sir, of having guilty remembrances on her conscience before shehad been a week in our service.' Can you imagine my astonishmentwhen I heard that Miss Redwood's view of Mrs. Rook was my view?Finding that I still said nothing, the old lady entered intodetails: 'We arranged, sir,' (she persisted in calling me 'sir,'with the formal politeness of the old school)--'we arranged, sir,that Mrs. Rook and her husband should occupy the bedroom next tomine, so that I might have her near me in case of my being takenill in the night. She looked at the door between the tworooms--suspicious! She asked if there was any objection to herchanging to another room--suspicious! suspicious! Pray take aseat, sir, and tell me which Mrs. Rook is guilty of--theft ormurder?' "

"What a dreadful old woman!" Emily exclaimed. "How did you answerher?"

"I told her, with perfect truth, that I knew nothing of Mrs.Rook's secrets. Miss Redwood's humor took a satirical turn.'Allow me to ask, sir, whether your eyes were shut, when ourhousekeeper found herself unexpectedly in your presence?' Ireferred the old lady to her brother's opinion. 'Sir Jervisbelieves Mrs. Rook to be crazy,' I reminded her. 'Do you refuseto trust me, sir?' 'I have no information to give you, madam.'She waved her skinny old hand in the direction of the door. Imade my bow, and retired. She called me back. 'Old women used tobe prophets, sir, in the bygone time,' she said. 'I will ventureon a prediction. You will be the means of depriving us of theservices of Mr. and Mrs. Rook. If you will be so good as to stayhere a day or two longer you will hear that those two people havegiven us notice to quit. It will be her doing, mind--he is a merecypher. I wish you good-morning.' Will you believe me, when Itell you that the prophecy was fulfilled?"

"Do you mean that they actually left the house?"

"They would certainly have left the house," Alban answered, "ifSir Jervis had not insisted on receiving the customary month'swarning. He asserted his resolution by locking up the old husbandin the pantry. His sister's suspicions never entered his head;the housekeeper's conduct (he said) simply proved that she was,what he had always considered her to be, crazy. 'A capitalservant, in spite of that drawback,' he remarked; 'and you willsee, I shall bring her to her senses.' The impression produced onme was naturally of a very different kind. While I was stilluncertain how to entrap Mrs. Rook into confirming my suspicions,she herself had saved me the trouble. She had placed her ownguilty interpretation on my appearance in the house--I had drivenher away!"

Emily remained true to her resolution not to let her curiosityembarrass Alban again. But the unexpressed question was in herthoughts--"Of what guilt does he suspect Mrs. Rook? And, when hefirst felt his suspicions, was my father in his mind?"

Alban proceeded.

"I had only to consider next, whether I could hope to make anyfurther discoveries,if I continued to be Sir Jervis's guest. The object of myjourney had been gained; and I had no desire to be employed aspicture-cleaner. Miss Redwood assisted me in arriving at adecision. I was sent for to speak to her again. The success ofher prophecy had raised her spirits. She asked, with ironicalhumility, if I proposed to honor them by still remaining theirguest, after the disturbance that I had provoked. I answered thatI proposed to leave by the first train the next morning. 'Will itbe convenient for you to travel to some place at a good distancefrom this part of the world?' she asked. I had my own reasons forgoing to London, and said so. 'Will you mention that to mybrother this evening, just before we sit down to dinner?' shecontinued. 'And will you tell him plainly that you have nointention of returning to the North? I shall make use of Mrs.Rook's arm, as usual, to help me downstairs--and I will take carethat she hears what you say. Without venturing on anotherprophecy, I will only hint to you that I have my own idea of whatwill happen; and I should like you to see for yourself, sir,whether my anticipations are realized.' Need I tell you that thisstrange old woman proved to be right once more? Mr. Rook wasreleased; Mrs. Rook made humble apologies, and laid the wholeblame on her husband's temper: and Sir Jervis bade me remark thathis method had succeeded in bringing the housekeeper to hersenses. Such were the results produced by the announcement of mydeparture for London--purposely made in Mrs. Rook's hearing. Doyou agree with me, that my journey to Northumberland has not beentaken in vain?"

Once more, Emily felt the necessity of controlling herself.

Alban had said that he had "reasons of his own for going toLondon." Could she venture to ask him what those reasons were?She could only persist in restraining her curiosity, and concludethat he would have mentioned his motive, if it had been (as shehad at one time supposed) connected with herself. It was a wisedecision. No earthly consideration would have induced Alban toanswer her, if she had put the question to him.

All doubt of the correctness of his own first impression was nowat an end; he was convinced that Mrs. Rook had been an accomplicein the crime committed, in 1877, at the village inn. His objectin traveling to London was to consult the newspaper narrative ofthe murder. He, too, had been one of the readers at theMuseum--had examined the back numbers of the newspaper--and hadarrived at the conclusion that Emily's father had been the victimof the crime. Unless he found means to prevent it, her course ofreading would take her from the year 1876 to the year 1877, andunder that date, she would see the fatal report, heading the topof a column, and printed in conspicuous type.

In the meanwhile Emily had broken the silence, before it couldlead to embarrassing results, by asking if Alban had seen Mrs.Rook again, on the morning when he left Sir Jervis's house.

"There was nothing to be gained by seeing her, "Alban replied."Now that she and her husband had decided to remain at RedwoodHall, I knew where to find her in case of necessity. As ithappened I saw nobody, on the morning of my departure, but SirJervis himself. He still held to his idea of having his picturescleaned for nothing. 'If you can't do it yourself,' he said,'couldn't you teach my secretary?' He described the lady whom hehad engaged in your place as a 'nasty middle-aged woman with aperpetual cold in her head.' At the same time (he remarked) hewas a friend to the women, 'because he got them cheap.' Ideclined to teach the unfortunate secretary the art ofpicture-cleaning. Finding me determined, Sir Jervis was quiteready to say good-by. But he made use of me to the last. Heemployed me as postman and saved a stamp. The letter addressed toyou arrived at breakfast-time. Sir Jervis said, 'You are going toLondon; suppose you take it with you?'"

"Did he tell you that there was a letter of his own inclosed inthe envelope?"

"No. When he gave me the envelope it was already sealed."

Emily at once handed to him Sir Jervis's letter. "That will tellyou who employs me at the Museum, and what my work is," she said.

He looked through the letter, and at once offered--eagerlyoffered--to help her.

"I have been a student in the reading-room at intervals, foryears past," he said. "Let me assist you, and I shall havesomething to do in my holiday time." He was so anxious to be ofuse that he interrupted her before she could thank him. "Let ustake alternate years," he suggested. "Did you not tell me youwere searching the newspapers published in eighteen hundred andseventy-six?"

"Yes."

"Very well. I will take the next year. You will take the yearafter. And so on."

"You are very kind," she answered--"but I should like to proposean improvement on your plan."

"What improvement?" he asked, rather sharply.

"If you will leave the five years, from 'seventy-six to'eighty-one, entirely to me," she resumed, "and take the nextfive years, reckoning _backward_ from 'seventy-six, you will helpme to better purpose. Sir Jervis expects me to look for reportsof Central American Explorations, through the newspapers of thelast forty years; and I have taken the liberty of limiting theheavy task imposed on me. When I report my progress to myemployer, I should like to say that I have got through ten yearsof the examination, instead of five. Do you see any objection tothe arrangement I propose?"

He proved to be obstinate--incomprehensibly obstinate.

'Let us try my plan to begin with," he insisted. "While you arelooking through 'seventy-six, let me be at work on'seventy-seven. If you still prefer your own arrangement, afterthat, I will follow your suggestion with pleasure. Is it agreed?"

Her acute perception--enlightened by his tone as wall as by hiswords--detected something under the surface already.

"It isn't agreed until I understand you a little better," shequietly replied. "I fancy you have some object of your own inview."

She spoke with her usual directness of look and manner. He wasevidently disconcerted. "What makes you think so?" he asked.

"My own experience of myself makes me think so," she answered."If _I_ had some object to gain, I should persist in carrying itout--like you."

"Does that mean, Miss Emily, that you refuse to give way?"

"No, Mr. Morris. I have made myself disagreeable, but I know whento stop. I trust you--and submit."

If he had been less deeply interested in the accomplishment ofhis merciful design, he might have viewed Emily's suddensubmission with some distrust. As it was, his eagerness toprevent her from discovering the narrative of the murder hurriedhim into an act of indiscretion. He made an excuse to leave herimmediately, in the fear that she might change her mind.

"I have inexcusably prolonged my visit," he said. "If I presumeon your kindness in this way, how can I hope that you willreceive me again? We meet to-morrow in the reading-room."

He hastened away, as if he was afraid to let her say a word inreply.

Emily reflected.

"Is there something he doesn't want me to see, in the news of theyear 'seventy-seven?" The one explanation which suggested itselfto her mind assumed that form of expression--and the one methodof satisfying her curiosity that seemed likely to succeed, was tosearch the volume which Alban had reserved for his own reading.

For two days they pursued their task together, seated at oppositedesks. On the third day Emily was absent.

Was she ill?

She was at the library in the City, consulting the file of _TheTimes_ for the year 1877.