Here ensued a laughing sort of colloquy between the Warden and Braithwaite, in which the former jocosely excused himself for having yielded to the whim of the pensioner, and returned with him on an errand which he well knew to be futile. “I have long been aware,” he said apart, in a confidential way, “of something a little awry in our old friend’s mental system. You will excuse him, and me for humoring him.” “Of course, of course,” said Braithwaite, in the same tone. “I shall not be moved by anything the old fellow can say.” The old pensioner, meanwhile, had been as it were heating up, and gathering himself into a mood of energy which those who saw him had never before witnessed in his usually quiet person. He seemed somehow to grow taller and larger, more impressive. At length, fixing his eyes on Lord Braithwaite, he spoke again. “Dark, murderous man,” exclaimed he. “Your course has not been unwatched; the secrets of this mansion are not unknown. For two centuries back, they have been better known to them who dwell afar off than to those resident within the mansion. The foot that made the Bloody Footstep has returned from its long wanderings, and it passes on, straight as destiny,--sure as an avenging Providence,--to the punishment and destruction of those who incur retribution.” “Here is an odd kind of tragedy,” said Lord Braithwaite, with a scornful smile. “Come, my old friend, lay aside this vein and talk sense.” “Not thus do you escape your penalty, hardened and crafty one!” exclaimed the pensioner. “I demand of you, before this worthy Warden, access to the secret ways of this mansion, of which thou dost unjustly retain possession. I shall disclose what for centuries has remained hidden,--the ghastly secrets that this house hides.” “Humor him,” whispered the Warden, “and hereafter I will take care that the exuberance of our old friend shall be duly restrained. He shall not trouble you again.” Lord Braithwaite, to say the truth, appeared a little flabbergasted and disturbed by these latter expressions of the old gentleman. He hesitated, turned pale; but at last, recovering his momentary confusion and irresolution, he replied, with apparent carelessness:-- “Go wherever you will, old gentleman. The house is open to you for this time. If ever you have another opportunity to disturb it, the fault will be mine.” “Follow, sir,” said the pensioner, turning to the Warden; “follow, maiden![Endnote: 3] Now shall a great mystery begin to be revealed.”