‘It was not opened,’ said Mr Mallory, who spoke much faster now; ‘the seal was not taken off, and was not again replaced, replaced with a much larger drop of sealing-wax, and pressed with the seal that you take about with you?’ His tone and his manner were so terrible that Nat lost his self-command, and broke out into tears. ‘We will have no whimpering,’ said the Squire, sternly. ‘Come, sir, control yourself, and answer one more question--Did you seal this envelope with your own hands, or did you not?’ ‘I did not, sir,’ cried Nat, in a voice weak with crying, and in a tumult of agitation that cannot be described, uncertain whether he should not fling himself before his master, and, revealing to him all that had happened, implore mercy at his feet. But the tempest of rage that broke at once upon him swept away all his strength like a thread before a storm. The Squire did not often lose his self-command, but on this occasion his self-command was gone. ‘You liar!’ he cried, ‘you ungrateful vagabond! Look at this!’ and he flung on the table the letter which he had held. ‘Will you dare to deny that it has been sealed with your seal, the seal which you dropped, and left in my room to-day? Oh, the seal is a plain one--you counted upon that--but the size is the same, the crack in the corner corresponds--you were very clever, no doubt, you imagined yourself to be clever, but you were not quite so clever as you supposed yourself to be! Come, sir, make your statement. We will have no more lies from you. Did you seal this letter again with your seal, or did you not?’ A moment of doom!--but if Nat had possessed the courage either to deny boldly or to confess the truth, he might even then have produced some reaction in his favour, or have made it at any rate more difficult for him to be condemned. He could not--at that moment there swept over him like a tempest the remembrance that Tina had given back his seal to him, and the sense of her perfidy, the conviction of her guilt, rushed on him like a flood he had no power to stand against. He could only declare with violent, broken words that he had not taken the money, he had not!--the protestations appearing to be that final vehemence which serves as the last outbreak of lying and despair. With a movement of frenzy the Squire put out his hand; but, recollecting himself, he drew it back again, drawing in his lips at the same time with an expression of disgust. And then, pushing away his desk with a motion of disdain, as if even that action gave him some relief, he rose from his seat and paced about the room. The eyes of his servants followed him, although they did not speak; no doubt they were expecting the order that had not been given yet.