“Wealth came to the unfortunate girl too late.  The shock she had received from Richard’s deceit had preyed upon her health, and she was failing rapidly, when he, hearing of her good fortune, returned home.

“With his specious address he might have regained his old ascendancy over her had I not interfered.  You know well, Agnes, his peculiar gift of fascination.  I believe he could by some unexplainable psychological process make any great wrong appear right to a woman.  But I induced her to bequeath her wealth to Herbert, and secure it, for a time at least, beyond Richard’s control—­and he owes me a grudge for it.

“Herbert, she left under my care, unless, of his own free will, he chose to reside with Richard, who in that case was to become his guardian; and in the event of Herbert’s death before reaching his majority, the whole property was to revert to Richard Bristed.  You see she loved him still.  Unjust but womanlike, her love was stronger than her judgment.

“Well,” said he, after eyeing me thoughtfully, “you listen as if you did not rightly comprehend what I have been saying!”

I was indeed stunned by his communication.  Could it be, I thought, with suppressed fear, that the shadowy figure which had haunted my bed-chamber and had visited me in dreams was the same wronged Alice?  Had she arisen from her grave beneath the granite of the church-yard to warn me?  Or are the dead jealous of their rights?  Do they cling to their earthly love?  I queried.  But when he spoke I shook off these thoughts that were rising like mist to obscure my judgment, and answered, “I am.  I am listening; proceed.”

“Agnes, through your influence Richard has hoped to obtain possession of Herbert and control over his fortune.  He has thought to entrap you as he did Alice, and through his power over you has calculated to carry out the project of his prolific brain.”

Till this moment I had listened silently to his strange recital, but I could not brook this insinuation.  The story, to my mind, did not appear clear.  How could Richard expect to obtain, through my agency, possession of a son whom he had never acknowledged?  Tis true I remembered him to have said that he feared I would miss my pupil very much.  He had asked playfully what would Herbert do without me, but he had not suggested taking the child away with us, and therefore Mr. Bristed’s charge appeared to my mind unfounded, and I told him so.

“Ah, my child!” he replied, “you know not the devising power of this man.  He has an agent here in this place, in the shape of old Crisp, the hunchback.  It has been his plan, under promise of marriage, to decoy you from this house; he would probably have left his child to Crisp’s good agency, with orders to join you.  Herbert loves you, and would have gone willingly in your company, but alone with Richard he would not have moved one step.  Once out of my reach in some distant city,