as now the mistress of the fair
estates of Castlewood, and, the male line being extinct, might claim
the barony, if so pleased me; for that, upon default of male heirs,
descended by the spindle. And as to the property, with or without any
will of the late Lord Castlewood, the greater part would descend to me
under unbarred settlement, which he was not known to have meddled with.
On the contrary, he confirmed by his last will the settlement--which
they told me was quite needless--and left me all that he had to leave,
except about a thousand pounds distributed in legacies. A private
letter to me was sealed up with his will, which, of course, it would not
behoove me to make public. But thus much--since our family history is,
alas! so notorious--in duty to him I should declare. He begged me, if
his poor lost wife--of whom he had never spoken to me--should re-appear
and need it, to pay her a certain yearly sum, which I thought a great
deal too much for her, but resolved to obey him exactly.

Neither the will nor the letter contained any reference to my
grandfather, or the possibility of an adverse claim. I could not,
however, be quit of deep uneasiness and anxiety, but stanchly determined
that every acre should vanish in folds of "the long robe" rather than
pass to a crafty villain who had robbed me of all my kindred. My hatred
of that man deepened vastly, as he became less abstract, while my terror
decreased in proportion. I began to think that, instead of being
the reckless fiend I had taken him for, he was only a low, plotting,
cold-blooded rogue, without even courage to save him. By this time
he must have heard all about me, my pursuit of him, and my presence
here--then why not come and shoot me, just as he shot my grandfather?

The idea of this was unwelcome; still, I felt no sort of gratitude, but
rather a lofty contempt toward him for not having spirit to try it.
In Shoxford church-yard he had expressed (if Sexton Rigg was not then
deceived) an unholy wish to have me there, at the feet of my brothers
and sisters. Also he had tried to get hold of me--doubtless with a
view to my quietude--when I was too young to defend myself, and left at
haphazard in a lawless land. What was the reason, if his mind was
still the same, for ceasing to follow me now? Was I to be treated with
contempt as one who had tried her best and could do nothing, as a feeble
creature whose movements were not even worth inquiry? Anger at such an
idea