“The fact is,” replied he, “you were all mad together about that tumble-down crazy concern, merely because it _was_ the old house; and I am very glad I put a stop to it when I did, and in the manner I did, though I think he knows better now, mad as he is at present. To tell you the truth, my dear,” and the doctor lowered his voice to a more serious and impressive tone, “I do not think he cares much, or perhaps not anything at all, about it. His liberty seems to be the principal thing with him. Do you know, he offered this evening to make the whole property over to me as a free gift, if I would let him out.” “Did he indeed!” exclaimed the lady, as tears of pity swam in her eyes. “Poor fellow!--poor fellow!” “Why, poor fellow? I didn't prompt him to say what he did. Besides, I would not take it. How dare I let him out? His gift would be good for nothing to me, being void at law. I cannot let him out. And even if I had ever dreamed of trying such a hazardous experiment, it would, under present circumstances, be impossible.” “But why _impossible_, Frank?” asked Mrs. Rowel. Frank Rowel began to imagine, from the turn which his wife appeared inclined to take in this business, that the relation of his interview with Fanny, which had discovered to him so unexpectedly the person of James Woodruff's daughter, and his own niece, would not materially profit him in the eyes of that lady; and therefore, although he had at first intended to make it known to her, he for the present forbore, and contented himself by assuring her how exceedingly lucky it was that, for her own sake, she had some one about her whose knowledge was not so soon set aside, and whose feelings of compassion were not so easily excited as her own; or otherwise it would inevitably come about that a whole establishment of lunatics would some day or other, out of pure kindness, be let loose to run rampant over and affright the whole country-side. “Then James is to remain there?” questioned the lady. “I see no chance for him,” was the reply; “everything is against him. He _must_ be confined for life.” Mrs. Rowel sighed, looked at her husband, then at the decanter of sherry which stood on the table, then smiled significantly, and then added in a half-jesting tone, though with a very serious and fixed intention, “I 'll take a glass of wine with you, my dear.” And so she did, and several others after it. In fact, though I abhor anything that might be supposed to touch on scandal, Mrs. Rowel liked sherry. CHAPTER XVII. _James Woodruff soliloquizes in his cell.--An unlooked-for offer of liberty is made him, and on what conditions._