as
this."

"Leave us," said Creswell, beckoning the servant back with his thin
hands; "what I have to say is to your master."

The servant went, in obedience to a gesture from Sir Bale, and shut the
door.

The old man drew nearer to the Baronet, and lowering his loud stern
voice a little, and interrupting his discourse from time to time, to
allow the near thunder-peals to subside, he said,

"Answer me, Sir Bale--what is this that has chanced between you and
Philip Feltram?"

The Baronet, under the influence of that blunt and peremptory demand,
told him shortly and sternly enough.

"And of all these facts you are sure, else ye would not blast your early
companion and kinsman with the name of thief?"

"I _am_ sure," said Sir Bale grimly.

"Unlock that cabinet," said the old man with the long white locks.

"I've no objection," said Sir Bale; and he did unlock an old oak cabinet
that stood, carved in high relief with strange figures and gothic
grotesques, against the wall, opposite the fireplace. On opening it
there were displayed a system of little drawers and pigeon-holes such as
we see in more modern escritoires.

"Open that drawer with the red mark of a seal upon it," continued Hugh
Creswell, pointing to it with his lank finger.

Sir Bale did so; and to his momentary amazement, and even consternation,
there lay the missing note, which now, with one of those sudden caprices
of memory which depend on the laws of suggestion and association, he
remembered having placed there with his own hand.

"That is it," said old Creswell with a pallid smile, and fixing his wild
eyes on the Baronet. The smile subsided into a frown, and said he: "Last
night I slept near Haworth Moss; and your father came to me in a dream,
and said: 'My son Bale accuses Philip of having stolen a bank-note from
his desk. He forgets that he himself placed it in his cabinet. Come with
me.' I was, in the spirit, in this room; and he led me to this cabinet,
which he opened; and in that drawer he showed me that note. 'Go,' said
he, 'and tell him to ask Philip Feltram's pardon, else he will but go in
weakness to return in power;' and he said that which it is not lawful to
repeat. My message is told. Now a word from myself," he added sternly.
"The dead, through my lips, has spoken, and under God's thunder and
lightning his words have found ye. Why so uppish wi' Philip Feltram? See
how ye threaped, and yet were wrong. He's no tazzle--he's no taggel