“Do you think I am mad?” said Edgar. “Look at me--can you really think so? I know only too well what I am saying. It is a very strange position to be placed in, and makes one talk a little wild, perhaps. Of course, I know nobody wants to take from me my Christian name; that was nonsense. But when one has just had such a fall as I have had, it confuses one a little. Will you come with me to the Hall, and see the papers? Clare should have told you. There is no harm in my calling her Clare, do you think, just for a time? I never can think of her but as my sister. And we must try and arrange what she is to do.” “Edgar, am I to believe you?” cried Mr. Fielding. “Is it madness, or is it something too dreadful to name? Do not look at me like that, my dear boy. Don’t smile, for Heaven’s sake! you will break my heart.” “Why shouldn’t I smile?” said Edgar. “Is all the world to be covered with gloom because I am not Squire Arden? Nonsense! It is I who must suffer the most, and therefore I have a right to smile. Clare will get over it by degrees,” he added. “It has been a great shock to her, but she will get over it. I don’t know what to say about her future. Of course I have no right to say anything, but I can’t help it. I suppose the chances are she will marry Arthur Arden. I hate to think of that. It is not mere prejudice against him as superseding me; it is because he is not worthy of her. But it would be the most suitable match. Of course you know she will lose Old Arden now that I am found out?” “Edgar, stop! I can’t bear it,” cried the Rector. “For Heaven’s sake don’t say any more!” “But why not? It is a relief to me; and you are our oldest friend. Of course I had no more to do with the entail than you have; all that is null and void. For Clare’s sake I wonder he did not destroy those papers, if for nothing else. Mr. Fielding, I have a horrible idea in my head. I wish I could get rid of it. It is worse than all the rest. He hated me, because of course I reminded him continually of his guilt. He wanted me to break my neck that day after Old Arden was settled on Clare. It would have been the most comfortable way of arranging the matter for all parties, if I had only known. But I can’t help thinking he carried his enmity further than that. I think he left those letters to be a trap to me. He meant me to find them, and hide them or destroy them, and share his guilt. Of course he believed I would do that; and oh, God! how strong the temptation was to do it! If I had found them myself--if they not been given to me by Clare----” Mr. Fielding pressed the arm he held. He doubted no longer, questioned no longer. “My poor boy! my poor boy!” he murmured under his breath; and, kind soul as he was, in his heart, with all the fervour of a zealot, he cursed the old Squire. He cursed him without condition or peradventure. God give him his reward! he said; and for the first time in his life believed in a lake of fire and brimstone, and wished it might be true.