"Master Richard says you looked very hard at Mr. Longcluse; you had both a good stare at each other," said Uncle David. "He thought there was going to be a recognition." "Did I? Well, no: I don't know him, I _think_. 'Tis all a jummlement, like. I couldn't bring nout to mind." "I know, Martha, you liked poor Harry well," said David Arden, not with a smile, but with a very sad countenance. "That I did," said Mrs. Tansey. "And I think you like me, Martha?" "Ye're not far wrong there, Master David." "And for both our sakes--for mine and his, for the dead no less than the living--I am sure you won't allow any thought of trouble, or nervousness, or fear of lawyers' browbeating, or that sort of thing, to deter you from saying, wherever and whenever justice may require it, everything you know or suspect respecting that dreadful occurrence." "The death o' Master Harry, ye mean!" exclaimed Mrs. Tansey sternly, drawing herself up on a sudden, with a pale frown, and looking full at him. "_Me_ to hide or hold back aught that could bring the truth to light! Oh! Master David, do you know what ye're sayin'?" "Perfectly," said he, with a melancholy smile; "and I am glad it vexes you, Martha, because I need no answer on that point more than your honest voice and face." "Keep back aught, man!" she repeated, striking her hand on the table. "Why, lad, I'd lose that old hand under the chopper for one gliff o' the truth into that damned story. Why, lawk! where's yer head, boy? Wasn't I maist killed myself, for sake o' him that night?" "Ay, Martha, brave girl, I'm satisfied; and I ask your pardon for the question. But years bring alteration, you know; and I'm changed in mind myself in many ways I never could have believed. And everyone doesn't see with me that it is our duty to explore a crime like that, to track the villain, if we can, and bring him to justice. _You_ do, Martha; but there are many in whose veins poor Harry's blood is running, who don't feel like you. Master Richard said that the gentleman looked as if he did not know what to make of you; 'and, by Jove!' said he, '_I_ didn't either--Martha stared so.'" "I couldn't help. 'Twas scarce civil; but truly I couldn't, Sir," said Martha Tansey, who had by this time recovered her equanimity. "He did remind me of summat." "We will talk of that by-and-by, Martha; we will try to recall it. What I want you first to tell me is exactly your recollection of the lamentable occurrence of that night. I have a full note of it at home; but I have not looked at it for years, and I want my recollection confirmed to-night, that you and I may talk over some possibilities which I should like to examine with your help." "I can talk of it now," said the old woman; "but for many a year after it happened I dare not. I could not sleep for many a night after I told it to anyone. But now I can bear it. So, Master David, you may ask what you please."