An instant's pause--then, in a tone in which, though calm, there was something unnatural and strange in the sound, there came the laconic reply--"_I did_." And then there was a solemn pause. For what could Eustace Trevor add--how reply to the mute but eager questioning of those eyes, now fixed intently upon him, as if in the verdict of his lips there lay more power to ease the heart of its blind fears and nameless misgivings--more in one calm word of his "Than all the world's defied rebuke." Therefore, though Mary held her breath, hoping, longing that he should proceed, yet shrinking from more direct inquiry, there he stood, with lips compressed and stern averted eyes; no marble statue could have remained more mute; till to break the ominous and oppressive silence, Mary pronounced the name of "Eustace Trevor." Then, indeed, her listener's eyes relaxed their fixed expression--a sudden glow lit up his countenance. In a low, deep tone, and with a soft, melancholy smile, he demanded: "And what, Miss Seaham, of Eustace Trevor?" "What of him? Oh! Mr. Temple, all--everything that you may know--may have reason to suspect or conceive concerning him!" Another pause; and then the voice of Mr. Temple, with renewed sadness replied: "What could I tell you concerning him, but that he is a wanderer upon the face of the earth, as you--as everybody are aware." "But why--but wherefore should this be; why forsake his country, his home, his kindred? Now, when Louis de Burgh gave me reason to suppose all further necessity was removed, his temporary affliction entirely subsided, why not return?" "Return!" interrupted the other--"return with that brand--that stigma--which once attached to his name, must mark him in the eyes of men--a thing of suspicion, nay, of fear for ever; return, when that return must be to hear that curse in every blast--to be cut off from every hope, every tie which makes life beautiful to other men, or--" he paused; for he was on the point of saying, "or--bitter alternative--brand a still worse stigma on another; on one who however unworthy of such consideration, I must still remember as my brother." Thus he probably would have spoken, had not he been recalled to recollection by the strange and anxious expression depicted on Mary's countenance, and then he added, with an effort at self-command: "The imputation of madness is a fearful thing, Miss Seaham, to be attached to a man's name; and Eustace Trevor, unfortunate man! is possessed of feelings most sensitive--morbidly sensitive, perhaps."