She looked at him.  She could not conceive worse than this, if indeed it were true.

“And do you think,” he continued, “that Mr. Topcliffe will do all this for love, or rather, for mere malice?  I have heard more of the fellow since he hath been in Derby than in all my life before; and, I tell you, he is for feathering his own nest if he can.”  He stopped.

“Mistress, did you know that he had been out to Padley three or four times since he came to Derby?...  Well, I tell you now that he has.  Mr. John was away, praise God; but the fellow went all round the place and greatly admired it.”

“He went out to see what he could find?” asked the girl, still whispering.

The other shook his head.

“No, mistress; he searched nothing.  I had it all from one of his fellows, through one of mine.  He searched nothing; he sat a great while in the garden, and ate some of the fruit; he went through the hall and the rooms, and admired all that was to be seen there.  He went up into the chapel-room, too, though there was nothing there to tell him what it was; and he talked a great while to one of the men about the farms, and the grazing, and such-like, but he meddled with nothing.” (The old man’s face suddenly wrinkled into fury.) “The devil went through it all like that, and admired it; and he came out to it again two or three times and did the like.”

He stopped to examine the notes he had made, and Marjorie sat still, staring on him.

It was worse than anything she could have conceived possible.  That a FitzHerbert should apostatise was incredible enough; but that one should sell his family—­It was impossible.

“Mr. Biddell,” she whispered piteously, “it cannot be.  It is some—­”

He shook his head suddenly and fiercely.

“Mistress Manners, it is as plain as daylight to me.  Do you think I could believe it without proof?  I tell you I have lain awake all last night, fitting matters one into the other.  I did not hear about Padley till last night, and it gave me all that I needed.  I tell you Topcliffe hath cast his foul eyes on Padley and coveted it; and he hath demanded it as a price for Mr. Thomas’ liberty.  I do not know what else he hath promised, but I will stake my fortune that Padley is part of it.  That is why he is so elated.  He hath been here nearly this three months back; he hath visited Mr. FitzHerbert nigh every day; he hath cajoled him, he hath threatened him; he hath worn out his spirit by the gaol and the stinking food and the loneliness; and he hath prevailed, as he hath prevailed with many another.  And the end of it all is that Mr. FitzHerbert hath yielded—­yet not openly.  Maybe that is part of the bargain upon the other side, that he should keep his name before the world.  And on this side he hath promised Padley, if that he may but keep the rest of the estates, and have his liberty.  I tell you that alone cuts all the knots of this tangle....  Can you cut them in any other manner?”