"Wait half a minute, Mrs. Jones, just half a minute. If I could only make you understand how we are all circumstanced here. And I tell you what; though you will trust me with nothing, I will trust you with everything." "I don't want no trust, sir; not about all this." "But listen to me. Sir Thomas has reason to believe--nay, he feels quite sure--that this man is alive." "Poor gentleman! poor gentleman!" "And has been here in this house two or three times within the last month. Sir Thomas is full sure of this. Now can you tell me whether the man who did come was this Talbot, or was not? If you can answer that positively, either one way or the other, you will do a service to the whole family,--which shall not go unrewarded." "I don't want no reward, sir. Ask me to tattle of them for rewards, after thirty years!" And she put her apron up to her eyes. "Well, then, for the good of the family. Can you say positively that the man who came here to your master was Talbot, or that he was not?" "Indeed then, sir, I can't say anything positively, nor for that matter, not impositively either." And then she shut herself up doggedly, and sat with compressed lips, determined to resist all the lawyer's arts. Mr. Prendergast did not immediately give up the game, but he failed in learning from her any more than what she had already told him. He felt confident that she did know the secret of this man's existence and presence in the south of Ireland, but he was forced to satisfy himself with that conviction. So he let her go, giving her his hand as she went in token of respect, and receiving her demure curtsey with his kindest smile. "It may be," thought he to himself, "that I have not done with her yet."