"I think so, sir. They said that Dr. Binjoy was always very gay; and used to go to London to lead a fast life." "Who said that? Did you ever go to Taxton-on-Thames?" "No, Mrs. Jerusalem told me. You know she was the housekeeper of the late Mr. Garth; and, after his death, she went to keep house for Sir Louis at Taxton-on-Thames. When Sir Louis came in for the property he brought her here." "Is she a native of this village?" "Oh, yes; she was a school friend of mine, though I never liked her over much. I believe she was in love with the late Mr. Garth. At all events, she is devoted to his son. I wonder she left him to keep house for Sir Louis. But, as poor, young Mr. Garth had no money, I suppose she had to do the best she could for herself." In Fanks' opinion, the love of Mrs. Jerusalem for the late Mr. Garth explained why she was so anxious to benefit the son; but it did not indicate why she should hate Sir Louis. Mrs. Prisom's next words enlightened him on this point. "It is more strange," pursued Mrs. Prisom. "Because Mr. Michael, the father of Sir Louis, treated Mrs. Jerusalem very badly. Yes, almost as badly as Sir Francis did Madaline Garry." "I wonder Sir Francis was not afraid that Madaline Garry would avenge herself for his treatment," said Fanks, now satisfied as to the cause of Mrs. Jerusalem's hatred for Sir Louis. "I think he was afraid," replied Mrs. Prisom, rising and rolling up her work. "I can't explain what he said to me in any other way." "What was that?" said Fanks, eagerly. "I was at the Hall one day, shortly after the death of Lady Fellenger," said the landlady, "and I saw him in his study. He was grieving greatly for the death of his wife; but he also told me how pleased he was at the birth of an heir. While he was talking, Madaline entered, and spoke about something; then she nodded to me, and went away. As the door closed after her, Sir Francis looked anxious. 'Nancy,' he said, turning to me--he always called me 'Nancy,'" said Mrs. Prisom, in parentheses. "'Nancy,' he said, all in a flutter like, 'if it should chance as I die, and anything goes wrong about my son, remember that cross I tattooed on your arm; and if you want any further proof, look in this desk.' Just then, we were interrupted, and he did not say any more. I never saw him again," added Mrs. Prisom, with emotion, "for he was brought home dead that day week." "Can you understand what he meant?" "No, sir," said Mrs. Prisom, rising. "I can only say from the look he gave the door, that he was afraid of Madaline. What he meant by the cross and the desk I know no more than you do. But he was wrong in thinking that Madaline would harm his child--for that was what he thought, I'm sure--for she went away a week after his death with her own, and Sir Gregory grew into a fine, young gentleman, though wild, very wild."