The appointed meeting for this night puzzled her more than ever. Never before had she met him save at the Grange or at The Camp, and more often than not in the presence of Dinah. Now he asked her to talk with him in a lonely spot, and under an ill-omened tree, where, it was locally reported, the witches of old days had held their Satanic revels. In answer to his request she had nodded, being taken by surprise; but now she began to question the propriety of her proposed action. She was a modest girl, and occupied a difficult position, so it was scarcely the thing to meet a young gentleman on a romantic summer night, and under a romantic tree. But her curiosity was extremely strong. She wished to know why Alpenny had grown so white and had appeared so terrified when Paslow pronounced four mysterious words. What was the "Black Patch"? and why did it produce such an effect on the usurer, who, as a rule, feared nothing but the loss of money? Vivian could explain, since he had brought about the miser's terror, therefore did Beatrice make up her mind to keep the appointment; but she smiled to think what Mrs. Snow would say did that severe lady know of the bold step she was taking. "Some more coffee?" said a voice at the door, and she looked up to see the smiling servant. "No thank you, Durban," she replied absently, and setting down the empty cup; then, seeing that he was about to withdraw, she recalled her scattered thoughts and made him pause, with a question. "What is the Black Patch?" asked Beatrice, facing round to observe the man's dark face. Durban spread out his hands in quite a foreign way, and banished all emotion from his dark features. "I do not know." "My father appeared to be startled by the words." "He did, missy, he did!" "Do you know the reason?" "I am not in your father's confidence, missy." "That is strange, seeing that you have been with him for over twenty years, Durban." "For twenty-four years, missy." "You never told me the exact time before, Durban." The man shrugged his shoulders. "You never asked me, missy." "That is true." Beatrice leaned back again in her chair, and remembered that she and Durban had talked but little about the past. "I should like to know about my mother," she said after a pause. "There is nothing to know, missy. She married master--and died." "I was then about a year old?" "Yes, missy." "I am twenty-five now, and you have been with Mr. Alpenny for four-and-twenty years; so it seems, Durban, that you first came here with my mother, and remained in Mr. Alpenny's service." "It is so, missy; I remained for your sake." "Then you were my mother's servant?" Durban's face might have been that of a wax doll for all the expression it showed. "I was, missy." "And you know all about my parents?" "What there is to know, missy, which is very little. You have never asked about them before; why do you question me now?"