“No,” he replied; “some warm words we had, which indeed for one reason I regret; but that was all. Sir Thomas, sir, I believe, is not popular in the neighborhood?” “I make it a point, my friend,” replied the priest, “never to spake ill of the absent; but perhaps you are aware that his only son disappeared as mysteriously as the other, and that he charges his sister-in-law as the cause of it; so that, in point of fact, their suspicions are mutual.” “I believe so,” said the other; “but I wish to direct your attention to another fact, or, rather, to another individual, who seems to me to be involved in considerable mystery.” “And pray, who is that.” replied the priest--“Not yourself, I hope; for in truth, by all accounts, you're as mysterious as e'er a one of them.” “My mystery will soon disappear, I trust,” said the stranger, smiling--“The young man's name to whom I allude is Fenton; but I appeal to yourself, reverend sir, whether, if Sir Thomas Gourlay were to become aware of the dying man's words, with which I have just made you acquainted, he might not be apt, if it be a fact that he has in safe and secret durance his brother's son, and the heir to the property which he himself now enjoys, whether, I say, he might not take such steps as Would probably render fruitless every search that could be made for him?” “You needn't fear me, sir,” replied his reverence; “if you can keep your own secret as well as I will, it won't travel far, I can tell you. But what about this unfortunate young man, Fenton? I think I certainly heard the people say from time to time that nobody knows anything about him, either as to where he came from or who he is. How is he involved in this affair, though?” “I cannot speak with any certainty,” replied the other; “but, to tell you the truth, I often feel myself impressed with strong suspicions, that he is the very individual we are seeking.” “But upon what reasons do you ground those suspicions.” asked his reverence. The stranger then related to him the circumstances in connection with Fenton's mysterious terror of Sir Thomas Gourlay, precisely as the reader is already acquainted with them. “But,” said the priest, “can you believe now, if Sir Thomas was the kidnapper in this instance, that he would allow unfortunate Fenton, supposing he is his brother's heir, and who, they say, is often _non compos_, to remain twenty-four hours at large?” “Probably not; but you know he may be unaware of his residence so near him. Sir Thomas, like too many of his countrymen, has been an absentee for years, and is only a short time in this country, and still a shorter at Red Hall. The young man probably is at large, because he may have escaped. There is evidently some mysterious relation between Fenton and the baronet, but what it is or can be I am utterly unable to trace. Fenton, with all his wild eccentricity or insanity, is cautious, and on his guard against me; and I find it impossible to get anything out of him.”