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Swain's words gave me plenty to think over, and left me so troubled and uneasy that I made a trip to the top of the ladder to take a look over Elmhurst. But everything appeared as usual. Perhaps Swain was right perhaps it was Silva who was using every minute to increase his influence; but what could I do?
"Who was the young man?" she asked. "Which young man, Miss?" "The one who has just arrived with the horse." "Oh; that's Master Kenneth, Miss," answered Oscar, with a grin. "Where did he come from?" "Master Kenneth? Why, he lives here." "At the house?" "Yes, Miss." "Who is he?" "Master Tom's nephew he as used to own Elmhurst, you know." "Mr. Thomas Bradley?" "The same, Miss." "Ah.
Rogers was something amazing. "Aren't you Lucy Rogers?" The maid raised her eyebrows with a gesture of genuine surprise. Then she gave a little laugh, and replied: "No, Miss Beth. I'm Elizabeth Parsons." "But it can't be," protested the girl. "How do you know my name, and why haven't I seen you here before?" "I'm not a very important person at Elmhurst," replied Eliza, in a pleasant, even tone.
"Well?" queried Louise, evidently amused. "It's plain to me that Aunt Jane has invited us here to choose which one of us shall inherit her money and Elmhurst. She's old and feeble, and she hasn't any other relations." "Oh, yes, she has" corrected Louise. "You mean Patricia Doyle?" "Yes." "What do you know of her?" "Nothing at all." "Where does she live?" "I haven't the faintest idea."
Lidderdale supposed in answer to her prayers, the solution was provided unexpectedly in the following letter: Haverton House, Elmhurst Road, Slowbridge. November 29th. Dear Grace, I have just received a letter from James written when he was at the point of death in Africa.
The maid is a little, demure thing, very young for such a position, and positively homely and common in appearance. But I hardly noticed her until she dropped a letter from her clothing. It fell just beside me, and I saw that it was addressed to no less a personage than my rich aunt, Miss Jane Merrick, at Elmhurst.
And what caused them to be of such value to Captain Grant? The answer came in a flash of suspicion the Colonel. He could be threatened with them, blackmailed, disgraced before Sir Henry Clinton, driven from his command. They were addressed merely to "Mortimer," discovered at Elmhurst, and were sufficient to convict of treason.
"Why won't you speak to me?" enquired the girl, gently. "I'm a stranger at Elmhurst, but I want to be your friend. Won't you let me?" To her amazement James threw up his hands, letting the shears clatter to the ground, and with a hoarse cry turned and fled up the path as swiftly as he could go.
"They did; but they've all been bought up. John Merrick owns the spaces now, and we're working for John Merrick." "Who's he?" "Some friend of Mr. Forbes, up at Elmhurst." Mr. Hopkins was not a profane man, but he said a naughty word. And then he cut his horse so fiercely with the whip that the poor beast gave a neigh of terror, and started down the road at a gallop.
"The same answer!" "Jack," said I, "I ought to call you out." "Don't," said he. "I don't want to be called out. I am getting found out. That's worse. Well Miss Elisabeth, may I be the first to congratulate?" "I am glad," said I, with just a slight trace of severity, "that you have managed again to get into the good graces of Elmhurst.
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