entity as the heir
of Sir Edward Gourlay. No doubt they had made a step in advance, and,
besides, in the right direction; but much still remained to be done; the
plot, in fact, must be gradually, but clearly, and regularly developed;
and in order to do so, they felt that they ought, if the thing could be
managed, to win over some person who had been an agent in its execution.

From what Skipton had disclosed to Father M'Mahon, both that gentleman
and the stranger had little doubt that old Corbet could render them the
assistance required, if he could only be prevailed upon to speak. It was
evident from his own conversation that he not only hated but detested
Sir Thomas Gourlay; and yet it was equally clear that some secret
influence prevented him from admitting any knowledge or participation
in the child's disappearance. Notwithstanding the sharp caution of his
manner, and his disavowal of the very knowledge they were seeking, it
was agreed upon that Father M'Mahon should see him again, and ascertain
whether or not he could be induced in any way to aid their purpose.
Nearly a week elapsed, however, before the cunning old ferret could be
come at. The truth is, he had for many a long year been of opinion
that the priest entertained a suspicion of his having been in some
way engaged, either directly or indirectly, in the dark plots of the
baronet, if not in the making away with the child. On this account then,
the old man never wished to come in the priest's way whenever he could
avoid it; and the priest himself had often remarked that whenever he
(old Corbet), who lived with the baronet for a couple of years, after
the child's disappearance, happened to see or meet him in Ballytrain,
he always made it a point to keep his distance. In fact, the priest
happened on one occasion, while making a visit to see Quin, the
monomaniac, and waiting in the doctor's room, to catch a glimpse of
Corbet passing through the hall, and on inquiring who he was from one of
the keepers, the fellow, after some hesitation, replied, that he did not
know.

By this time, however, the mysterious loss of the child had long passed
out of the public mind, and as the priest never paid another visit to
the asylum, he also had ceased to think of it. It is quite possible,
indeed, that the circumstance would never again have recurred to him
had not the stranger's inquiries upon this very point reminded him that
Corbet was the most likely person he knew to co