trange silence which some called sullenness and pride; others, more
merciful, stunned grief.

Poor Cecil! there was less pity to be spared to her because of the
intense relief it was to be free from her father, and to be able to
stand in a knot consulting on the steps, without his coming out to
find out what they were talking about, and to favour them with some
Dunstone counsel.

The consultation was about Mr. Moy. It was determined that since
Archie was in England, it would be better not to wait till Herbert
was recovered, but that Miles and Julius should go together at once
to see what effect they could produce on him.

They drove together to his office. He was a tall man, a few years
over forty, and had hitherto been portly and well-preserved, with a
certain serene air of complacent prosperity about him, that had
always been an irritation to the county families, with whom he tried
to assert an equality; but as he rose to greet the brothers, there
was a bent and shrunken look about him: the hair on his temples had
visibly whitened, his cheeks seemed to have sunk in, and there were
deep furrows on them. Altogether he had grown full twenty years
older in appearance since he had stood proposing a popular toast at
the dinner at the town-hall. There was something nervous and
startled in his gray eye, as he saw them enter, though he tried to
assume his usual half-bland, half-easy, manner.

"Good morning, Captain Charnock Poynsett. Good morning, Mr.
Charnock, I hope I see you well?" the words faltering a little, as
neither sailor nor clergyman took notice of his proffered hand; but
he continued his inquiries after the convalescents, though neither
inquired in return after Mrs. Moy, feeling, perhaps, that they would
rather not hear a very sad account of her state just before letting
their inevitable Nemesis descend; also, not feeling inclined for
reciprocal familiarity, and wanting to discourage the idea that
Miles came for political purposes.

"It has been a terrible visitation," said Moy, when he had been
reduced to replying to himself.

"It has," said Julius. "Perhaps you have heard that your tenant,
Gadley, is dead?"

"Yes, I did hear it. A very melancholy thing--the whole family
swept-away," said Mr. Moy, his eye again betraying some uneasiness,
which Julius increased by saying--

"We thought it right that you should hear that he made a disclosure
on his death-bed."

"Indeed!" Mr. Moy sat erect--the