Though Wilton had his heart too full of painful memories to speak cheerfully upon any subject, yet he said all that was courteous, and all that was kind; and, as it were to force himself to show an interest, which he would more really have experienced at another moment, he added, “I often wished to know how the sad adventures of that night ended.”

The lady coloured; but he instantly continued, “I mean what was the result, when the constables, and other people, visited the house.  I knew that Sherbrooke’s very name was sufficient to protect him, and all in whom he had an interest, and therefore I took no steps in the matter; but I much wished to hear what followed after I had left the place, though, as Sherbrooke said nothing, I did not like to question him.”

“You have questioned me on deeper subjects than that, Wilton,” replied Lord Sherbrooke.—­“But the matter that you speak of was easily settled.  The constables found no one in the house but Plessis, myself, these two ladies, and some humbler women.  It so happened, however, that I was known to one of the men, who had been a coachman in my father’s service, and had thriven, till he had grown—­into a baker, of all earthly things.  As to Plessis, no inquiries were made, as there was not a constable amongst them who had not an occasional advantage, by his I ‘little commerce,’ as he calls it; and the ladies of course passed unscathed, though the searching of the house, which at the time we could not rightly account for, till Plessis afterwards explained the whole, alarmed my poor Caroline, and, I think, did her no small harm.  But look you, Wilton, there is your good friend, and mine, on the other side of the room, rousing himself from his reverie, to speak with you.  Ay! and one who must have a share in your greetings, also, though, with the unrivalled patience which has marked her life, she waits till all have done.”

Wilton crossed over the room, and spoke a few words to the Lady Helen Oswald; and then turning to Green, he held out his hand to him; but the greeting of the latter was still somewhat abstracted and gloomy.

“Ha!  Wilton,” he said.  “What brought you hither this night, my good boy?  You are on your way to Somersbury, I suppose,”

“No,” replied Wilton; “I have just come thence.”

“Indeed!” said Green.  “Indeed!  How happens that, I wonder?  Did you meet any of my men?  Indeed you must have met them, if you come from Somersbury.”

“I met several men on horseback,” replied Wilton; “one party of whom, three in number, stopped me, and asked me several questions.”

“They offered no violence?  They offered no violence?” repeated Green, eagerly.

“None,” answered Wilton; “though I suppose, if I had not answered their questions satisfactorily, they would have done so, as they seemed very fit persons for such proceedings.  But I was in hopes,” he continued, “that all this had gone by with you, and that such dangerous adventures were no more thought of.”