e?" said
the Colonel, in his irresistibly sweet tone.

"I will. Only keep hold of my hand, pray," and the little hand trembled
so much that he felt himself committing a cruel action in leading her
along the esplanade, but there was no fresh start of recognition, and
when they had gone the whole length, she breathed more freely, and said,
"No, he was not there."

Recollecting how young she had been at the time of Maddox's treason, the
Colonel began to doubt if her imagination had not raised a bugbear, and
he questioned her, "My dear, why are you so much afraid, of this person?
What do you know about him?"

"He told wicked stories of my papa," said Rose, very low.

"True, but he could not hurt you. You don't think he goes about like Red
Ridinghood's wolf?"

"No, I am not so silly now."

"Are you sure you know him? Did you often see him in your papa's house?"

"No, he was always in the laboratory, and I might not go there."

"Then you see, Rose, it must be mere fancy that you saw him, for you
could not even know him by sight."

"It was not fancy," said Rose, gentle and timid as ever, but still
obviously injured at the tone of reproof.

"My dear child," said Colonel Keith, with some exertion of patience,
"you must try to be reasonable. How can you possibly recognise a man
that you tell me you never saw?"

"I said I never saw him in the house," said Rose with a shudder;
"but they said if ever I told they would give me to the lions in the
Zoological Gardens."

"Who said so?"

"He, Mr. Maddox and Maria," she answered, in such trepidation that he
could scarcely hear her.

"But you are old and wise enough now to know what a foolish and wicked
threat that was, my dear."

"Yes, I was a little girl then, and knew no better, and once I did tell
a lie when mamma asked me, and now she is dead, and I can never tell her
the truth."

Colin dreaded a public outbreak of the sobs that heaved in the poor
child's throat, but she had self-control enough to restrain them till
he had led her into his own library, where he let her weep out her
repentance for the untruth, which, wrested from her by terror, had
weighed so long on her conscience. He felt that he was sparing Ermine
something by receiving the first tempest of tears, in the absolute
terror and anguish of revealing the secret that had preyed on her with
mysterious horror.

"Now tell me all about it, my dear little girl. Who was this Maria?"

"Maria was my nurse