"A bill of sale?--I do not know what you mean." "Ah! perhaps not." He rose and hobbled to his writing-table, where he began to write. "What's your address?" he asked. Katherine told him. Presently he finished and turned to her. "Put this in the post. Look at it. Mr. Newton, my solicitor, will take it with him when he calls, to-morrow or next day. No!" suddenly. "I will send the girl with it to the pillar, and you shall stay till she returns. You may or you may not be honest; but I will never trust any one again." "As you like," returned Katherine, overjoyed not to be utterly refused. "And before I go, do let me try and find some one to be with you. It is dreadful to think of your being alone in this large house with only that poor little girl! and she is inclined to run away! I think her mother is coming here; let me stay till she comes." "I don't want any one," said the old man, fiercely. "I am hale and strong; the child can do all I want. You got some food for her I see. The strength of that meat will last till to-morrow. Then you must come to hear what I decide, and you can do what I want, _if_ you _are_ my niece!" "Do--do let me find some one to stay with you! I cannot bear to think of your being alone." The old man stared at her curiously, and a sort of mocking smile parted his lips. "May I at least ask Susan if her mother can come? for I am sure the girl will not stay alone." "Very well," he said; "but be sure you do not promise her money! She _may_ come here to keep the child company--not for my sake." Katherine hastened to question Susan, and found that her mother, a char-woman, lived near. She despatched the little girl to fetch her, and, after some parleying, agreed to give her half a crown if she would remain for the night, determining to pay it herself rather than mention the subject to the ogre upstairs. Then she put her hat straight and resumed her gloves. "I must bid you good-morning now," she said. "This mother of Susan's looks a respectable woman, and will not ask you for any money. Will you not let me get you some tea and sugar before I go, and something for--" "No!" cried the old man. "I have some tea. It is all that----robber left behind her. I want nothing more. Mind you come back to-morrow. If you are my brother's daughter (though it is no recommendation!) I'll do something for you. If you are _not_, I'd--I'd like to give you a piece of my mind." He laughed a fiendish, spiteful laugh as he said this. "Then accept my thanks beforehand," said Katherine smiling a little wearily. She was very tired. It was an oppressive day, and she had been under a mental strain of no small severity. Now she was longing to be at home to tell her mother all her strange adventures, and she had yet to find out by what route she should return.