Year: 1869

4
melancholy light, as though she felt
that the duty she had taken upon her.
self to perform would lead her perforce
through dark and troubled waters, to a
goal which as yet she discerned not at
all.


Spoken like my own brave darling (,
said Jane admiringly. we want rloth-
ing but the truth.


Frederick ran her eve over the State.
ment again. 1T almost seems to me. ,
she said, that it would be better for
me not to interfere personally in this
matter at all, but to put it as it now
stands into the hands OF my lawyer,
Mr.. Penning, and leave him to test it,
value in whatever way he NAV deem
advisable. And yet the interests in
volved in it are 80 peculiar, and there
are those under this roof who would
be 50 deeply compromised if what this
narrative contains be true, that | can
not help feeling reluctant to let i, pass
out Of my hands without at least yiv-
ing one person whom it deeply con
Germs knowledge OF the case equal to
my own, so that she may be prepared
At the proper time to disproye its
statements, should she ever be called
upon to do so. Then, again, the story
is such an incredible one, and there are
so many weak points about it at pres
ent, that l question whether quiet,
matter-of-fact Mr.. Penning would not
pooh-pooh it altogether. and smile COM
passionately upon me for allowing nv
self to put faith in so palpable an alb
surdity.


/ Cannot some of those weak points
be strengtheneds' said Jane.


How so?' said Frederick.


Mr.. English makes mention there
OF room in which he was shut I'D be-
fore he was taken across the sea-of a
room with barred windows. in which
there was hideous bed that frighten-
ed him into fit one day. Now, there
must have been such a room. Miss
Frederick.


There may have been such room
certainly, nurse ; or it NAV have had
an existence merely in the imagination
of Mr.. English. But even granting
the room TO have been real one, what
then. Where are We to find it?-and
If found, in what way would it benefit
our case


Wait n bit, Miss Frederick. please.
said Jane. Besides what Mr.. English
has put down on that paper, he told
me many little things that came into
his memory, bit by bit, when we were
talking together about his early life
and many long talk about it we had
Among other things, he told me some
thing more about that house with the
barred windows, which would seem 70
UfUugu. isvs.., ----- -----


any other way, the people Of the house
used To take him down stairs. and hold
him over dark hole or well, in one Of
the lower rooms, into which they
threatened TO throw him unless he be-
haved better The recollection Of that
horrible well had been impressed 50
strongly on his childish mind, that he
could still recall the shudder with
which long afterwards he would awake
at night from dream of being cast
headlong into it. Now, there was
something in all this that struck me in
way ! cannot explain. I've been
turning it over and over in my mind
churning it, like-ever since Mr.. Eng
lish told me about it ; and it was only
this very morning that the idea flashed
Ill ,,ta
house he spoke about could have been
no other than White Grange, a lonely
farmhouse among the hills, about a
dozen miles from Kingsthorpe. You
know, Miss Frederica, that | was
brought up not many miles from there ;
and once, what l was thin slip of a
girl. my father, who was a miller, had
occasion TO 90 to White Grange on bus
mess, and he took me in the cart with
him. Whether the window had iron
bars outside them or not, l can't just
saw but do recollect being shewn in
one Of the outhouses deep grim-look-
ing we'll they took off the wooden
cover. SO that I might see down into it
and very frightened l was, more par
ticularly when they told me the story
that was connected with it. 1t was
said that more than hundred years
before that time, a traveller, who had
lost his way, and had begged nights
shelter at the Grange, had been ioul-
ly murdered, and his body thrown
into the well and never after tina,
time would anybody touch a drop Of
the water that was drawn from it.
The name of the family that lived at
White Grange when l knew it was
Sandyson, and they didn'. bear an
over-good name among us country
| folk many queer things were wills
pered about them.-Now, supposing,
Miss Frederica, that it was really
White Grange where Mr.. English
was shut up as child, mightn't it be
worth our willie just to inquire wheth-
er any of the family who lived there
fve-and-twenty years ago can now be
found? and if they can be found,
whether anything can be got from
them as to such a child having been
shut up there, and for what purpose


Would it not be worth our while to
try this?'


Miss Spencelaugh agreed that il
might, perhaps, be worth while tc
make such inquiries, but was doubt.
tul as to their resulting in anything
tangible. 1t was, however. ultimate.
, | ly decided that Jane should do wha