"Indeed, I am doing no such thing. I did not know there was any harm in reading those papers, and I did so. But I did more than that, Kerry. I told the story of the tragedy to Frank Linton; and he has written a book on the trial." "A book! With the real names?" "No! The names are fictitious, and the scene is laid in a different place. But the whole story is told in the novel." "Does the master know?" asked Kerry, muttering something between his teeth. "He does now. Mr. Hilliston saw the book in London, and came over to tell him, and to ask me to say no more about it." "What's that for, anyhow," demanded Kerry, who seemed to scent new danger. "Because Mr. Larcher is here!" Kerry flung up his hands with a cry of astonishment. "Mr. Larcher, miss! Who are you telling about?" "Oh, Mr. Claude Larcher," said Jenny, rather alarmed, for he had gripped her arm, "the son of the deceased man. He is staying at the Manor House with Mr. Tait." For a few minutes Kerry stood looking at the ground in silence. Up to the present he had succeeded in preserving his calm, but the last piece of news upset him altogether, and he burst into violent speech. "Augh! it's sorrow that is coming to this house, and the black curse will be on the threshold. Cold will the hearth be soon, and the old master will be driven out. Ohone! and we and time will have sent him into the cold world. Whirra! whirra!" Jenny was so dumfounded by the unexpected eloquence of the old man that she could do nothing but stare at him. He caught her eye, and seeing that he had been indiscreet in so betraying himself, he cut short his lamentations, wiped his eyes, and relapsed once more into the crusty, faithful Kerry whom she knew. But he gave her a word of warning before he took his departure. "Say nothing of this, Miss Jenny," he remarked; "sure it's an old fool I am. Keep a silent tongue as the master and lawyer wishes you to do, and then, please the saints, things will go the better." "But, Kerry, before you go, tell me. What is Mr. Hilliston to my father?" "He is your father's best friend, miss," said Kerry, with emphasis; "his best and his worst," and with that enigmatic reply he hurried off down the lane in the direction of the vicarage, leaving Jenny in a state of bewilderment.