"Pooh—pooh! I should have thought you'd more pluck than to talk in this way. What does it matter whether Jack Ketch or a private enemy did the job?" "Where did this happen? when?—how long ago?" inquired Markham, not knowing whether to believe the statement thus strangely made to him, or not. "If you really wish to know all about it," said the man, "step up this court, where we can talk in peace, and I will tell you. What! you think I am going to hurt you too? Well, be it so. Goodnight—or rather good morning." At that moment Saint Giles's Church struck two. "Stay," cried Richard, catching the man by the arm: "I will accompany you." They walked together into a dark court, our hero keeping himself in readiness to resist any sudden hostility, were such a proceeding intended. But the man appeared to have no such aim in view, for, leaning himself tranquilly against the wall, he said, "Can you keep a secret?" "If I promise to do so," answered Richard. "Then promise not to betray what I am going to tell you." "I promise," said Markham, after some hesitation. "You must know," continued the man, satisfied with this assurance, "that I have lately partaken of the hospitality of a race of persons, at whose head-quarters—not a hundred miles from where we are now standing—I met Anthony Tidkins——" "When?" demanded Richard impatiently. "About two hours ago." "Ah! then it may be true——" "True! what interest have I to tell you a lie? I have been some time in search of that villain; and accident threw us together to-night. This dagger——" here he took Markham's hand, and made him feel the point of the elastic poniard,—"this dagger drank his life's best blood!" Richard could not suppress an ejaculation of horror. The assassin laughed. "Unhappy man," said our hero, "are you not aware that your life may be forfeited on account of this deed?" "And this good blade should reach the heart of any one that attempted to take me," was the resolute and indeed significant reply. "I promised to betray nothing that you might communicate to me, and I shall keep my word," rejoined Markham, in a firm tone, and without retreating a single step. "Did I wish to forfeit my pledge, your dagger would not intimidate me." "You are a brave fellow," cried the stranger; "and all brave men may be trusted. Would you like to satisfy yourself, with your own eyes, that Anthony Tidkins has received his death wound?" "I should," answered Markham; "both on my own account and on that of society." "And you will not betray the place that I shall take you to, or the people that you may see there?" "Most solemnly will I keep your secret." "Come with me, then. I will leave you at the door; and your own ingenuity must obtain you admittance. But, one word more: you will not state to any one there that you have met me?" "I will not even allow my motive for visiting the place you speak of to transpire." "I believe all you say. Come!"