'
'You wish your visit secret? well, you have my honour, no one living
shall hear of it,' said Mervyn. 'Go on.'
'I've little to say, your honour; but, first, do you think your servants
heard the noise just now?'
'The old woman's deaf, and her daughter dare not stir after night-fall.
You need fear no interruption.'
'Ay, I know; the house is haunted, they say, but dead men tell no tales.
'Tis the living I fear, I thought it would be darker--the clouds broke
up strangely; 'tis as much as my life's worth to me to be seen near this
Tyled House; and never you speak to me nor seem to know me when you
chance to meet me, do you mind, Sir? I'm bad enough myself, but there's
some that's worse.'
'Tis agreed, there shall be no recognition,' answered Mervyn.
'There's them watching me that can see in the clouds, or the running
waters, what you're thinking of a mile away, that can move as soft as
ghosts, and can gripe as hard as hell, when need is. So be patient for a
bit--I gave you the message--I tell you 'tis true; and as to my proving
it at present, I can, you see, and I can't; but the hour is coming, only
be patient, and swear, Sir, upon your soul and honour, that you won't
let me come to perdition by reason of speaking the truth.
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