’How can I tell, cheaile?  What does signify whether it is forty or only fourteen years?  Bah! we av other theeng to theenk about.  Those villain men!  I am glad to see bar and bolt, and lock and key, at least, to our room, to keep soche faylows out!’

At that moment a knock came to the door, and Madame’s nasal ‘in moment’ answered promptly, and she opened the door, stealthily popping out her head.

‘Oh, that is all right; go you long, no ting more, go way.’

‘Who’s there?’ I cried.

‘Hold a your tongue,’ said Madame imperiously to the visitor, whose voice I fancied I recognised—­’go way.’

Out slipped Madame again, locking the door; but this time she returned immediately, bearing a tray with breakfast.

I think she fancied that I would perhaps attempt to break away and escape; but I had no such thought at that moment.  She hastily set down the tray on the floor at the threshold, locking the door as before.

My share of breakfast was a little tea; but Madame’s digestion was seldom disturbed by her sympathies, and she ate voraciously.  During this process there was a silence unusual in her company; but when her meal was ended she proposed a reconnaissance, professing much uncertainty as to whether my Uncle had been arrested or not.

’And in case the poor old gentleman be poot in what you call stone jug, where are we to go my dear Maud—­to Knowl or to Elverston?  You must direct.’

And so she disappeared, turning the key in the door as before.  It was an old custom of hers, locking herself in her room, and leaving the key in the lock; and the habit prevailed, for she left it there again.

With a heavy heart I completed my simple toilet, wondering all the while how much of Madame’s story might be false and how much, if any, true.  Then I looked out upon the dingy courtyard below, in its deep damp shadow, and thought, ’How could an assassin have scaled that height in safety, and entered so noiselessly as not to awaken the slumbering gamester?’ Then there were the iron bars across my window.  What a fool had I been to object to that security!

I was labouring hard to reassure myself, and keep all ghastly suspicions at arm’s length.  But I wished that my room had been to the front of the house, with some view less dismal.

Lost in these ruminations of fear, as I stood at the window I was startled by the sound of a sharp tread on the lobby, and by the key turning in the lock of my door.

In a panic I sprang back into the corner, and stood with my eyes fixed upon the door.  It opened a little, and the black head of Meg Hawkes was introduced.

‘Oh, Meg!’ I cried; ‘thank God!’

‘I guessed’twas you, Miss Maud.  I am feared, Miss.’

The miller’s daughter was pale, and her eyes, I thought, were red and swollen.

‘Oh, Meg! for God’s sake, what is it all?’