"Slander!" returned my companion calmly. "It is you who slander, if you suspect anybody. I have only told you what everybody knew at the time the mur...--well, then, when Sir Wentworth had his fit. The thing strikes you as it does me, that is all." "But is it not inconceivable," urged I, "if the crime was committed by the person we are thinking of, that he should retain this dumb witness of his atrocity, that he should let it live, far less should keep it in his private sitting-room--" "No!" interrupted Marmaduke firmly. "On the contrary, it strengthens my suspicions. You do not know the man as I do. It gives him gratification to subdue even a dog. This creature has no love for my uncle; but its excessive terror of him, which endured for months, nay, years, has gradually worn off. He obeys him now; whereas, as I have been told, it was long before it could do anything but shiver at the sound of his voice. After dinner, when I have been sitting with Sir Massingberd alone, he will sometimes give the dog a biscuit, saying with an awful smile: "Here, Grimjaw; you and I know something that nobody else knows; don't we?" "Great Heavens!" cried I in horror; "and what does he do that for?" "Because," replied Marmaduke bitterly, "he loves to see me tremble." CHAPTER V. THE STATE BEDROOM. Marmaduke had scarcely concluded his narration, when steps were heard in the passage. I daresay I turned pale at the thought of seeing the man of whom I had just heard such frightful things, for my companion observed, as if to reassure me, "It is only Mr. Long." "Are you quite sure?" said I. Marmaduke smiled sadly. "Do you think that I do not know my uncle's step? I should recognize it amongst a score of others. If he overtook me in a crowded street, I should feel that he was coming and shudder as he passed beside me...--Pray, come in, sir." "Well," cried my tutor, entering, radiant with, his good news, "no more moping at home, my lads; you are to be henceforth cavaliers--you are to scour the country. Boot and saddle! boot and saddle! Your uncle will not trust me to get you a steed, Marmaduke; there are none good enough for you, it seems, at Crittenden; he is going to send to London for an animal worthy of you. But never mind, Peter; you shall have the best mount that can be got in Midshire, and we will pit the country nag against the town." My tutor's voice revived me like a cordial: after the morbid horrors I had been listening to, his cheery talk was inexpressibly grateful, as the dawn and ordinary sounds of waking life are welcome to one who has suffered from a nightmare. "I was just about to show Meredith the Hall," said Marmaduke. "Well it is time that we should be at our work, like good boys," observed Mr. Long, consulting his watch; "but still, for one morning, it does not matter, if you would like to stay, Peter."