“I presented the letter, my lady; and had at first strong hopes—­no, not at first—­but in the course of our conversation.  He dropped unconscious hints that induce me to suspect he knows more about the fate of your son than he wishes to acknowledge.  It struck me that he might have been an agent in this black business, and, on that account, that he is afraid to criminate himself.  I have, besides,” he added, smilingly, “had the gratification to have heard a prophecy uttered, by which I was assured of ultimate success in my efforts to trace out your son;—­a prophecy uttered under and accompanied by circumstances so extraordinary and incomprehensible as to confound and amaze me.”

He then detailed to her the conversation he had had with old Dunphy and the fortune-teller, suppressing all allusion to what tha latter had said concerning Lucy and himself.  After which, Lady Gourlay paused for some time, and seemed at a loss what construction to put upon it.

“It is very strange,” she at length observed; “that woman has been here, I think, several times, visiting her late brother, who left her some money at his death.  Is she not extremely pale and wild-looking?”

“So much so, madam, that there is something awful and almost supernatural-looking in the expression of her eyes and features.  I have certainly never seen such a face before on a denizen of this life.”

“It is strange,” replied her ladyship, “that she should have taken upon her the odious character of a fortune-teller.  I was not aware of that.  Corbet, I know, had a sister, who was deranged for some time; perhaps this is she, and that the gift of fortune-telling to which she pretends may be a monomania or some other delusion that her unhappy malady has left behind it.”

“Very likely, my lady,” replied the other; “nothing more probable.  The fact you mention accounts both for her strange appearance and conduct.  Still I must say, that so far as I had an opportunity of observing, there did not appear to be any obvious trace of insanity about her.”

“Well,” she exclaimed, “we know to foretell future events is not now one of the privileges accorded to mortals.  I will place my assurance in the justice of God’s goodness and providence, and not in the delusions of a poor maniac, or, perhaps, of an impostor.  What course do you propose taking now?”

“I have not yet determined, madam.  I think I will see this old Dunphy again.  He told me that he certainly suspected your brother-in-law, but assured me that he had no specific grounds for his suspicions—­beyond the simple fact, that Sir Thomas would be the principal gainer by the child’s removal.  At all events, I shall see him once more to-morrow.”

“What stay will you make in town?”