By what the Rev. Mr. Denver had heard, and by what the wife of that said gentleman had told to Mrs. Price and Mrs. Flint, and by what Mrs. Denver and Mrs. Price and Mrs. Flint had told to every body within the reach of their knowledge, the whole town of Brigland was full of confused rumours and reports of some great calamity having befallen Mr. John Martindale. Some said that he had lost all his property; some said that he had only lost half; some had it that old Richard Smith, who had lately died, had been discovered to be Mr. Martindale’s elder brother, and that all his immense property must descend to the young woman his niece. The reports at last found their way to the housekeeper’s room at the Abbey; and the trusty Oliver trembled when he was very credibly and circumstantially informed that, in consequence of the death of old Richard Smith, some papers or parchments, or some something, had been discovered, by which it appeared that old Mr. Martindale had no right to the large property which he had so long possessed. It is the peculiar privilege of rogues always to fear the worst in doubtful matters. This privilege Oliver now abundantly enjoyed. Not wishing to keep all his news to himself, he took the first opportunity of speaking to his master; and in order to break the matter gently to him, and not all at once to overwhelm him with the fatal intelligence, he began by asking: “Have you heard any bad news lately, sir?” “Bad news,” hastily asked Mr. Philip, “no; what do you mean?--what kind of bad news? Do you allude to the report that the old gentleman is going to be married to Lady Woodstock?” “Oh dear no, sir; it is a great deal worse than that: but I hope it is not true; yet I am sure I had it from very good authority, and it is not likely such a thing should be invented.” “Well, well, don’t stand prating and prosing, but tell me at once what it is.” The trusty Oliver shook his head and sighed. “It is nothing more nor less, sir, than that some deeds have been discovered at old Richard Smith’s cottage since the poor man’s death, by which it appears that Mr. Martindale has no right to the property he now possesses.” “Nonsense,” replied the Hon. Philip Martindale, “who told you that fool’s tale? Do you think that I should not have heard of it, if such had been the fact?” “Why, sir, I heard it from a gentleman who had it from Mrs. Denver; and Mr. Denver himself was present when the discovery was made. It was only yesterday that the matter came out; and Mr. Denver went down to the cottage to Mr. Martindale to tell him all about it. The gentleman who claims the property went with him; and Mr. Martindale has been at Richard Smith’s this morning. The real owner of the property comes from Italy.”