As I stood thus in suspense, listening for further development of the mystery, I heard a step close beside me.  I turned, and discovered Richard.  His fair, handsome face scowled at me fiendishly; his countenance seemed transformed; his eyes gleamed like those of a panther.

“What are you doing here?” said he, laying a heavy hand upon me and speaking through his set teeth.  “Go down stairs!” and he pushed me from him violently.

I suppose his physical power and angry mood awed me, for I forgot my determination to solve the mystery—­forgot my own rights, and hurried precipitately down the stairs.

CHAPTER XVII.

With my mind filled with dreadful forebodings, I reached my own private chamber, entered it, and bolted the door, that I might consider, undisturbed, the best course of action to pursue under these fearful suspicions that haunted me.  Hour after hour passed as I sat thus absorbed in thought which seemed to turn my very hair gray from its intensity.

I heard Richard descend the stairs and go out into the street.  Not long; after this the door-bell rang violently and the servant knocked at my door to say that a gentleman in the drawing-room wished to see me.  Smoothing my hair and arranging my toilet, I obeyed the summons, but started back on discovering the stranger to be no other than Mr. Bristed.  He pressed my hands and said: 

“Agnes, can I converse with you in private here a few moments?”

My first surprise over, I answered, “Come with me; we will not be disturbed here.”  Withdrawing to a small room adjoining, he drew forward an ottoman and seating himself beside me, said: 

“Agnes, Herbert is missing; can you tell me where I can find him?”

“Herbert missing!” said I with a shudder.

“Yes,” said he, “I have heard, Agnes, that a gentleman visits you whom I surmise to be my brother, and, if so, I thought perhaps you would know through him of Herbert’s place of hiding.”

“Has Herbert left you?” said I.  “Tell me—­what do you mean, Mr. Bristed?”

“Yes,” said he; “some few weeks since, I left the Hall to visit an old friend.  I expected to be absent a fortnight.  While I was gone Herbert disappeared, the servants knew not how nor where.  At first, hoping to discover that he had strayed off of his own accord and would soon be found, they searched the country in every direction, but in vain.  They were at last obliged to send me word of his disappearance.  You can imagine my sensations on arriving at the Hall and finding the dear child’s room vacant.  I made inquiries in every quarter, sent couriers out in all parts of the neighboring country, but no trace of him could be found.

“I at length thought of you, that you might have seen or heard of my brother.  He is the one person likely to be concerned in the singular disappearance of Herbert.”

I trembled from head to foot.  What could I say?  Evidently he was not aware of my marriage with his brother.  How should I act?  Richard might come in at any moment and discover himself.  I recollected him to have incidentally mentioned that the following day he had an engagement at the race-course with a friend; I therefore said hurriedly: