is white face, as he made her a mock salutation, and glided into his
parlour. The fire was bright enough, however, as Mrs. Jukes was much
relieved to see; and dropping a courtesy she enquired whether he would
like a dish of tea, or anything?

'No, Ma'am!' he snarled.

'Would he like his dressing-gown and slippers?'

'No, Ma'am,' again. So she dropped another courtesy, and sneaked away to
the kitchen, with short, noiseless steps, and heard Mr. Dangerfield shut
the door sharply.

His servants were afraid of him. They could not quite comprehend him.
They knew it was vain trying to deceive him, and had quite given up
lying and prevaricating. Neither would he stand much talking. When they
prattled he brought them to the point sternly; and whenever a real
anxiety rested on his mind he became pretty nearly diabolical. On the
whole, however, they had a strange sort of liking for him. They were
proud of his wealth, and of his influence with great people. And though
he would not allow them to rob, disobey, or deceive him, yet he used
them handsomely, paid like a prince, was a considerate master, and made
them comfortable.

Now Mr. Dangerfield poked up his fire and lighted his candles. Somehow,
the room looked smaller he thought than it had ever seemed before. He
was not nervous--nothing could bring him to that; but his little
altercation with the iron gate, and some uncomfortable thoughts had
excited him. It was an illusion merely--but the walls seemed to have
closed in a foot or two, and the ceiling to have dropped down
proportionably, and he felt himself confined and oppressed.

'My head's a little bit heated--_ira furo brevis_,' and he sneered a
solitary laugh, more like himself, and went out into his tiny hall, and
opened the door, and stood on the step for air, enjoying the cold wind
that played about his temples. Presently he heard the hollow clink of
two pair of feet walking toward the village. The pedestrians were
talking eagerly; and he thought, as they passed the little iron gate of
his domain, he heard his own name mentioned, and then that of Mervyn. I
dare say it was mere fancy; but, somehow, he did not like it, and he
walked swiftly down to the little gate by the road side--it was only
some twenty yards--keeping upon the grass that bounded it, to muffle the
sound of his steps. This white phantom noiselessly stood in the shadow
of the road side. The interlocutors had got a good way on, and were
talking loud and