where we met Rashleigh, and after a hasty private talk with him, in which from earnest she became angry and flung away from him, saying, “I will have it so.”  Immediately after we heard his horse’s hoofs in rapid motion; and very shortly afterwards Mr. Campbell, the very Scotchman we had met at Darlington, entered the Justice’s room, and giving him a billet from the Duke of Argyll to certify that he, Mr. Robert Campbell, was a person of good fame and character, prevailed on the magistrate to discharge me, for he had been with my late fellow-traveller at the time of the robbery, and could swear that the robber was a very different person.  Morris was apparently more terrified than ever, but agreed to all Mr. Campbell said, and left the house with him.

Miss Vernon made me promise to ask no questions, and I only entreated her, if at any time my services could be useful to her, she would command them without hesitation.

Before Rashleigh’s departure, I had realised his real character, and wrote to Owen, my father’s old clerk, to hint that he should keep a strict guard over my father’s interests.  Notwithstanding Miss Vernon had charged Rashleigh with perfidious conduct towards herself, they had several private interviews together, though their bearing did not seem cordial; and he and I took up distant ground, each disposed to avoid all pretext for collision.

I began to think it strange I had received no letter either from my father or Owen, though I had now been several weeks at Osbaldistone Hall—­where the mode of life was too uniform to admit of description.  Diana Vernon and I enjoyed much of our time in our mutual studies; although my vanity early discovered that I had given her an additional reason for disliking the cloister, to which she was destined if she would not marry any of Sir Hildebrand’s sons, I could not confide in our affection, which seemed completely subordinate to the mysteries of her singular situation.  She would not permit her love to overpower her sense of duty or prudence, and one day proved this by advising me at once to return to London—­my father was in Holland, she said, and if Rashleigh was allowed to manage his affairs long, he would be ruined.  He would use my father’s revenues as a means of putting in motion his own ambitious schemes.

I seized her hand and pressed it to my lips—­the world could never compensate for what I left behind me, if I left the Hall.

“This is folly!  This is madness!” she cried, and my eyes, following the direction of hers, I saw the tapestry shake, which covered the door of the secret passage to Rashleigh’s apartment.  Prudence, and the necessity of suppressing my passion and obeying Diana’s reiterated command of “Leave me! leave me!” came in time to prevent any rash action.  I left the apartment in a chaos of thoughts.  Above all I was perplexed by the manner in which Miss Vernon had received my tender of affection, and the glance of fear rather than surprise with which she had watched the motion of the tapestry.  I resolved to clear up the mystery, and that evening, at a time when I usually did not visit the library, I, hesitating a moment with my hand on the latch, heard a suppressed footstep within, opened the door, and found Miss Vernon alone.