As soon as he was alone, the moment the door was shut, he took up the claret-jug, poured the contents over his right hand to cleanse it from the contamination of that touch, and then walked hastily up and down the room, waving his hand through the air until it dried. "A thousand isn't much to secure him. But will it secure him? That is the question. Yes, I think it will. I think the coast is now clear. With prudence and patience I can do all now," he whispered to himself, with his left hand on his forehead. "Wat Grey, you've had a close shave. Nothing could have been closer. Had you pulled that trigger all would have been lost. Now you have a clear stage, and must let things take their course. The old man can't live for ever; and until he dies you must keep quiet and repress all indication of the direction in which your hopes lie. Maud does not dream of this." A knock at the door. "Come in." James, the servant, entered, holding a slip of paper in his hand. "What is it, James?" asked the master. "That man that's gone out, sir, said he forgot to give his address, and as you might want it he asked me to take it up to you." Mr. Grey was standing by the low gasalier as the servant handed him the piece of paper. Mr. Grey took the address in his right hand; as he did so the purblind footman sprang back a pace. "What's the matter?" demanded Mr. Grey with an amused smile. "Ex--excuse--me--sir," the man faltered, "but your hand----" "Well, what about it?" "It's all over blood!" "What! What do you say?" shouted the master, in a tone of dismay. "Do _you_ want a thousand too?" "Indeed, no, sir; and I beg pardon; but do look at your hand." Mr. Grey held up his hand, examined it, and then burst out into a loud shout of laughter. When he could speak he cried: "You charming idiot! You will kill me with your droll ways. That dirty wretch who went out touched my hand. I had no water near me, so I poured some claret over my hand and forgot to wipe it." He approached James and held out his hand, saying, "Look." Then added, in a tone of solemn amusement: "James, there was once a man who died of laughing at seeing an ass eat. I do think I shall die of laughing at hearing a donkey talk. Bring me the coffee. Go." And as the servant was leaving the room, Mr. Grey broke out into a laugh of quiet self-congratulation on the fact of his possessing such a wonderful source of amusement in his servant, James. CHAPTER III. THE MANOR HOUSE. The house occupied by Mr. Grey was very old. It had been the Manor House, and was still called the Manor House, or the Manor, although it had long ago ceased to be the property of the original owner's descendants. For years before Mr. Grey bought it the house had been uninhabited. It bore a bad name--why, no one could tell. The fortunes of the lords of the manor had gradually mouldered away, and the old house had been allowed to fall into decay and dilapidation.