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EARLE, startled for an instant in spite of
himself, by the apparition in his path,
quickly regained his coolness, and drew
rein to converse with his companion.

“You say—?” said Earle.

“That Sir Murdaugh Westbrooke is plotting
to destroy you,” said the gypsy. “I know it
from hearing the thing with my ears, brother.”

“Tell me all about it.”

And dismounting, Earle threw his bridle
over his arm, and walked on beside the gypsy.

“Well, I will do so, brother. Night is the
time to talk; and I think the stars yonder are
friendly to the brethren of the Rommanye
Rye. Here is the way I discovered all. I had
been to make a visit to Westbrooke Hall—”

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“Not to converse with the baronet on that
business?” interrupted Earl.

The gypsy smiled in a manner which displayed
a double row of teeth.

“No, brother. To tell you the truth, I don't
like the thought of going there on that errand.
Some accident might happen to me; I might
be set up in a chair, opposite that other grinning
`old gentleman,' in the grave-clothes!”

“I understand,” said Earle.

“I had other business, and I succeeded in it,
brother. I had made a little plot against the
other wolf-hound. Some day, I said, I may
have to visit Westbrooke Park. Then the
hound will prove an ugly customer, and give
the alarm. Better act in time, and pay my respects
to his honor, the wolf-hound!”

“I understand,” repeated Earle.

“So I went to see this good watch-dog in his
kennel,” continued the gypsy; “and to make my
visit more acceptable, carried with me a piece
of fresh meat. This I threw to our friend, the
hound, just as he sprung out to give the alarm.
He gobbled it up instead of barking. I hid in
the bushes near, and in about fifteen minutes
the dog seemed to grow sick. Then he bit the
ground and tugged at his chain, and ended by

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rolling on his back, beating the air with his
paws, and then lying quiet.”

“Poisoned?”

“Yes, brother. He is not apt to trouble us
further. I saw that he was done for and hastened
to retreat from the park. When I reached
the great woods, I thought I was safe; but as
I was gliding through a thicket skirting the
main road, I thought I heard footsteps in the
undergrowth, and lay down listening. The
steps came nearer. From my covert I saw a
man, with a gun on his shoulder, pass within
twenty feet of me, and as he approached the
road I could hear the hoof-strokes of a
horse.”

“The baronet?”

“Yes. He was coming back, it seemed, from
a visit, as I soon found that he was in full
dress. The man who was his gamekeeper,
Wilde, had chanced to be going his rounds and
met him. The baronet stopped, and I could
see, through an opening, by the starlight, that
his face was pale and full of anger at something.”

Earle nodded.

“I can explain that. Well, you saw,—
doubtless you also heard.”

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“Yes, brother, I was born with a great hankering
after finding out everything. I crawled
along, without making a noise, until I was
within a few yards of these good people, and
hiding in a clump of bush, listened. I had
torn my rags to worse rags, but what I heard
was worth the expense. I need not tell you
what they said; it amounted to this—that you
were to be waylaid and `got rid of.' That was
the baronet's phrase. As to me, I was to be
treated in the same way. You see he knows
we know his secret, and as long as we are alive
he is not safe. He is in a violent rage with
you at something, besides, which occurred to-night,
it seems; and, hearing the name,
`Maverick House,' where, it appears, you
were on a visit, I thought I'd warn you in time,
brother.”

“You did well,—forewarned, forearmed,”
said Earle. “Was anything more said between
the worthies?”

“They were interrupted.”

“By whom?”

“As they were talking in low tones, on the
side of the road, within a few feet of me, a fine
coach, drawn by four horses, came along, going
toward the Hall, and, as it passed, a gentleman

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put his head out of the window, and said, `Is
not that Sir Murdaugh Westbrooke?'—`Yes,'
the baronet replied.—`I am the Viscount
Cecil,' said the man in the coach. And the
baronet bowed, came up, talked for some minutes,
and at last got into the coach, which rolled
away toward the Hall, Wilde having taken his
master's horse. Then I set off to find you; the
grass has not grown under my feet. What will
you do, brother?”

But Earle did not reply. A sudden glow had
come to his countenance.

“Are you sure you heard aright?” he exclaimed.
“The man in the coach gave his
name as Viscount Cecil?”

“I heard the name distinctly, brother. It
seems to interest you.”

“It does, I swear to you! And you heard
nothing more?”

“Only something about his having come
down to his estates, from Parliament, to see
the baronet on business, or something of the
sort.”

“Good! `Parliament,'—that is enough!
`Viscount Cecil,'—there can be no doubt. It
is he!”

“What do you say, brother?”

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“Nothing. Ah, the man in the coach—the
man in the coach! That decides me. I might
have been weak—this makes me resolute!”

And turning to the gypsy, he added,—

“I am about to leave this country, brother.
Do not count on my co-operation with you, and
look out for yourself. One thing only I can
promise you: I think that I will rid you of your
enemy, Sir Murdaugh Westbrooke. All is
ready! To-night decides! Farewell, brother!
May the stars guide you!”

He uttered the last words in the gypsy
tongue, and made a salute peculiar to the fraternity.

Then, putting spurs to his horse, he disappeared
at full gallop in the darkness.

The gypsy gazed after him with an expression
of wonder, and then began running
in the same direction; that is, toward Oldport.

The village was not, however, Earle's destination
now. Once out of sight of the gypsy, an
individual whom he seemed to decline trusting,
he turned to the right, rode rapidly toward the
coast, reached the foot of the great headland,
on which we have witnessed his interview with
the sad-looking woman, and, dismounting, concealed
his horse in a thicket.

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He then advanced upon foot, without losing
a moment, toward the spot where he had disembarked
from the boat, and following a winding
path, along narrow ledges of rock, came in
sight of the little indentation in the precipice.

The boat was awaiting him. There were
four men in it—they seemed to have just
arrived.

p517-096

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