“Oh,” said Caleb, bowing his head and waving his hand gravely.  And Mrs. Garth knew that this was a sign of his not intending to speak further on the subject.

As for Bulstrode, he had almost immediately mounted his horse and set off for Stone Court, being anxious to arrive there before Lydgate.

His mind was crowded with images and conjectures, which were a language to his hopes and fears, just as we hear tones from the vibrations which shake our whole system.  The deep humiliation with which he had winced under Caleb Garth’s knowledge of his past and rejection of his patronage, alternated with and almost gave way to the sense of safety in the fact that Garth, and no other, had been the man to whom Raffles had spoken.  It seemed to him a sort of earnest that Providence intended his rescue from worse consequences; the way being thus left open for the hope of secrecy.  That Raffles should be afflicted with illness, that he should have been led to Stone Court rather than elsewhere—­Bulstrode’s heart fluttered at the vision of probabilities which these events conjured up.  If it should turn out that he was freed from all danger of disgrace—­ if he could breathe in perfect liberty—­his life should be more consecrated than it had ever been before.  He mentally lifted up this vow as if it would urge the result he longed for—­ he tried to believe in the potency of that prayerful resolution—­ its potency to determine death.  He knew that he ought to say, “Thy will be done;” and he said it often.  But the intense desire remained that the will of God might be the death of that hated man.

Yet when he arrived at Stone Court he could not see the change in Raffles without a shock.  But for his pallor and feebleness, Bulstrode would have called the change in him entirely mental.  Instead of his loud tormenting mood, he showed an intense, vague terror, and seemed to deprecate Bulstrode’s anger, because the money was all gone—­he had been robbed—­it had half of it been taken from him.  He had only come here because he was ill and somebody was hunting him—­ somebody was after him he had told nobody anything, he had kept his mouth shut.  Bulstrode, not knowing the significance of these symptoms, interpreted this new nervous susceptibility into a means of alarming Raffles into true confessions, and taxed him with falsehood in saying that he had not told anything, since he had just told the man who took him up in his gig and brought him to Stone Court.  Raffles denied this with solemn adjurations; the fact being that the links of consciousness were interrupted in him, and that his minute terror-stricken narrative to Caleb Garth had been delivered under a set of visionary impulses which had dropped back into darkness.