"I tell you this had nothing to do with the imagination," persisted the executioner. "I saw _another face_ as plain as I see yours now; and—more than that—its glassy eyes were fixed upon me in a manner which I shall never forget. It was a warning—I know it was." Kate made no reply: she saw the inutility of arguing with her uncle upon the subject; and she was afraid of provoking his irritable temper by contending against his obstinacy. "But we won't talk any more about it, Kate," said the executioner, after a pause. "I know how to take it; and it doesn't frighten me; it only makes me dull. It hasn't prevented me from sleeping in my old quarters; nor will it, if I can help it. But you want to be off—I see you are getting fidgetty." "I only received permission to remain out one hour," answered Kate. "Is my cousin at home?" "The young vagabond!" ejaculated the executioner, whose irritability this question had aroused in spite of the depression of spirits under which he laboured; for he could not forget the unwearied repugnance which Gibbet manifested towards the paternal avocations:—"the young vagabond! he is never at home now of an evening." "Never at home of an evening!" exclaimed Kate, surprised at this information. "No," continued the executioner; "and at first I thought he went to see you." "He can only visit me on Sunday evenings," observed the young maiden. "So he told me yesterday. Howsumever, he goes out regular at dusk, and never comes back till between nine and ten—sometimes later." "Then I am not likely to see him this evening?" exclaimed Kate, in a tone of disappointment. "That you are not," replied the executioner. "But I must put a stop to these rovings on his part." "Oh! pray be kind to him, uncle," said Katherine, rising to depart. "Kind indeed!" grumbled the man, some of his old surliness returning. Katherine then took leave of her uncle, and hurried towards Mr. Tracy's residence. She reached her destination as the clock struck nine, and entered the house as usual, by the back way. She proceeded to the kitchen, where, to her surprise, she observed Mrs. Kenrick sitting in her arm-chair, but apparently fast asleep. The old housekeeper's arms reposed upon the table, and formed a support for her head which had fallen forwards. "Strange!" thought Katherine; "this is the first time I have known her sleep thus." The young maiden moved lightly about the kitchen, while she threw off her bonnet and cloak, for fear of awaking the housekeeper. Then she sate down near the fire, and fell into a profound reverie concerning the strange tale which her uncle had told her. Presently it struck her that she did not hear the housekeeper breathe; and an awful suspicion rushed like a torrent into her mind. For some moments she sate, motionless and almost breathless, in her chair, with her eyes fixed upon the inclined form of the housekeeper.