So he would ‘gas,’ in the modern term, and to the infinite tickling of his young hearer, who, nevertheless, found his affection for the queer creature increased rather than diminished by this knowledge of his weakness. Ingenuous vanity is ever the most forgivable. In the meantime the days went on, and passed into weeks, and still the master of the house delayed to appear. Brion wondered, and would sometimes put his wonder into words, seeking the reason of Clerivault. But it was so apparent that the man either knew of none, or, if he knew, meant to keep his own counsel in the matter, that soon the boy desisted, and resolved philosophically upon making the best of the situation as he found it, and leaving all conjecture for present content. And that was the wise course to take, however sudden the turn which brought it to an end. CHAPTER VII. THE OLD WELL HOUSE One night Brion woke suddenly from a disturbed sleep, and sat up in the dark, his heart thumping. He had been dreaming, and in his dreams it had seemed to him that something shadowy and noiseless had entered by the door, and come and bent above his bed, its features a white blur in a pall of blackness. So strong was his sense of a presence even then in the room, or only recently gone from it, that he held his breath to hearken for any indication of its whereabouts; and so sitting, a little fearful, was presently reassured by the sound of the great door in the hall below being undisguisedly barred and bolted. Whereat, concluding that it was earlier than he had supposed, and that the household was only now making secure for the night, he lay down again, convinced he had been dreaming, and was soon deep in the waters of oblivion. But the waking morning brought disquiet with it. No Clerivault appeared from the neighbouring closet where he was used to sleep, to attend, as was his wont, upon his young charge, and Brion, after a period of restless waiting, was fain to dress himself, which he did with all speed and in a growing uneasiness. Leaving his room at the end, and going by Clerivault’s door, he found it opened, and old Harlock within, feigning to busy herself over the unused bed. But she was there, it was evident by her pretence of answering a question that was not put, to invite comment. ‘Eh?’ she whined. ‘What sayest? I’m slow to hear.’ ‘I did not speak,’ said Brion. ‘Where is Clerivault?’ ‘Where?’ she answered. ‘Ask his master for that. I’m ne’er in the goodman’s confidence.’ ‘His master!’ ‘Ay, his master and ours--bondslaves to his will. A may come and go, and do with us as a lists. Be his purpose dark or light, in blindness are we sworn to him, to see naught and follow at his call.’ ‘May come--my Uncle!’ exclaimed the boy, all astounded: ‘has he been here, then?’ ‘Been and gone,’ answered the old woman. ‘Came like a thief in the night, to steal nothing but away again.’ ‘And took Clerivault with him?’