"Mercy be good to us!" she exclaimed, seeing by the young lady's white face that they had been overheard. And, scarcely knowing what she did, she dragged the horror-stricken girl round to the hearth, before John. "Now you've done it!" she cried, turning upon him. "You'd better pack up and be off to jail: for if Miss Ethel tells the Master of Greylands what she has heard, he'll put you there." "No, he won't," said John, full of contrition for the mischief he had done, but nevertheless determined not to eat his words, and believing the suspicion must have reached the young lady sooner or later. "You cannot think this of papa!" said Ethel, sinking into a chair. "Well, Miss Ethel, it is a great mystery, as you must know," said the landlord, who had risen. "I think the Master of Greylands could solve it if he liked." "But--but, Mr. Bent, what you said is most dreadful!" "I'm heartily sorry you chanced to overhear it, Miss Ethel." "There's no cause to wink at me like that, wife. The words are said, and I cannot unsay them." "But--do--you---believe it?" gasped Ethel. "Yes, he does believe it," burst forth Mrs. Bent, losing sight of prudence in her anger against her husband. "If he does not get into some awful trouble one of these days through his tongue, his name's not John Bent--And there's Miss Castlemaine of Stilborough crossing over the road!" Not less overcome by terror and dismay than Mrs. Bent had been by anger, Ethel rushed out of the house and burst into a storm of hysterical sobs. Mary Ursula, wondering much and full of concern, drew her arm within her own and went over to the little solitary bench that stood by the sea. "Now, my dear, tell me what this means," she said, as they sat down. But Ethel hesitated: it was not a thing to be told to Miss; Castlemaine. She stammered an incoherent word or two between her sobs, and at the best was indistinct. "I understand, Ethel. Be calm. John Bent has been making a terrible charge against my Uncle James." Ethel clung to her. She admitted that it was so: telling how she had unintentionally overheard the private conversation between the landlord and his wife. She said it had frightened and confused her, though she did not believe it. "Neither do I believe it," returned Miss Castlemaine calmly. "I heard this some time ago--I mean the suspicion that is rife in Greylands--but I am sorry that you should have been startled with it. That my uncle is incapable of anything of the kind--and only to have to say as much in refutation seems a cruel insult on him--I am perfectly sure of; and I am content to wait the elucidation that no doubt time will bring." "Bat how wicked of John Bent!" cried Ethel.