“Miss Vere.” said Ratcliffe, after a momentary pause, “I am bound by a solemn oath of secrecy--You must, without farther explanation, be satisfied with my pledged assurance, that he does possess the power, if you can inspire him with the will; and that, I doubt not, you will be able to do.” “Mr. Ratcliffe,” said Miss Vere, “you may yourself be mistaken; you ask an unlimited degree of confidence from me.” “Recollect, Miss Vere,” he replied, “that when, in your humanity, you asked me to interfere with your father in favour of Haswell and his ruined family--when you requested me to prevail on him to do a thing most abhorrent to his nature--to forgive an injury and remit a penalty--I stipulated that you should ask me no questions concerning the sources of my influence--You found no reason to distrust me then, do not distrust me now.” “But the extraordinary mode of life of this man,” said Miss Vere; “his seclusion--his figure--the deepness of mis-anthropy which he is said to express in his language--Mr. Ratcliffe, what can I think of him if he really possesses the powers you ascribe to him?” “This man, young lady, was bred a Catholic, a sect which affords a thousand instances of those who have retired from power and affluence to voluntary privations more strict even than his.” “But he avows no religious motive,” replied Miss Vere. “No,” replied Ratcliffe; “disgust with the world has operated his retreat from it without assuming the veil of superstition. Thus far I may tell you--he was born to great wealth, which his parents designed should become greater by his union with a kinswoman, whom for that purpose they bred up in their own house. You have seen his figure; judge what the young lady must have thought of the lot to which she was destined--Yet, habituated to his appearance, she showed no reluctance, and the friends of--of the person whom I speak of, doubted not that the excess of his attachment, the various acquisitions of his mind, his many and amiable qualities, had overcome the natural horror which his destined bride must have entertained at an exterior so dreadfully inauspicious.” “And did they judge truly?” said Isabella.