[figure description] Page 299.[end figure description]

IT was not until the next night that Wilde
made his reappearance.

He then entered the library where
Sir Murdaugh was feverishly pacing up
and down; and from the haggard appearance of
the man's face, and his jaded expression, it was
plain that he had just undergone great fatigue.

The baronet stopped and turned around
eagerly.

“Well?” he exclaimed.

“I have caught her at last, your honor!”

“Good! where is she?”

“On her way to the coast in the wagon with
Gubbs.”

The baronet uttered an exclamation of satisfaction.

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“That is well!” he said.

Wilde made no reply. The baronet glanced
at him. He was gloomy and dispirited.

“What is the matter? Has anything occured?
Where did you find her? Has anything
taken place?”

“Something unlucky enough, your honor.
I will begin and tell you every thing. I followed
their steps — her, and that gypsy scoundrel,
in the woods, till I lost them. Gubbs was
as much at fault as I was; but we inquired
of an old woodman, got on the trail of the
gypsies, who have been camping about in the
woods, and found 'em at last in the big forest
behind Maverick House, where they have been
laying low, to keep out of the way.”

“Make haste! Come to the point!” cried
the baronet, impatiently.

“In a minute, your honor. Well, we came
on 'em at last. I heard 'em, and crawled
through the brush till I got a sight of 'em,
there close to me. An old hag in a red cloak
was watching a pot boiling over a fire on two
forked sticks; and that gypsy scoundrel was
talking to her, while she — the woman we were
after — was listening. As I got to my hiding-place,
I heard the old hag call my name; the

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next thing she said was that she could get you
and me into trouble, and then that gypsy dog,
who can never rest till he finds out every thing,
plied her with questions till she let out—”

Wilde stopped.

“Let out what? Speak!” exclaimed the
baronet, wrathfully.

“What she had seen near the bridge leading
to Wentworth Castle twenty years ago!” said
Wilde, sullenly.

The baronet turned pale.

“She saw you?”

“Yes, your honor. How could I help that?
I had my orders from you, and obeyed 'em!
and now I am to get into trouble.”

“Cease that growling! She saw—”

“Well, she saw me steal the child of Viscount
Cecil!” said Wilde,—“the son of his
wife who died twenty years ago.”

The baronet gnawed his lip, and his face
grew livid.

“You paid me to do it, and I lurked round
the castle till I did it,” growled the Hercules.
“I saw the child come tottering down the path
to the bridge, to look at the water. How he
came to stray away from his nurse I never
knew; but he was there, and I caught hold of

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him, and lifted him on my black horse, and
made through the woods at a gallop, carrying
him before me!”

“And—this hag—!”

“Saw me! She was prowling in the brush
to steal fowls or any thing. I nearly rode over
her, and knew she had seen me. I ought to have
killed her, but blood is dangerous! I paid her
ten guineas, and afterwards ten more when she
met me and knew me for the man that stole the
child! Then she went away, and I thought
she was dead. I had carried the child to
France,—you were at Martigny—and I saw
no more of her. Now she has told that gypsy
and that woman the whole,—that the Viscount
Cecil's child was not drowned in the torrent as
all thought, but carried off by me. They know
that he lives—is Edmond Earle!”

The baronet drew a long, deep breath.
Something seemed crushing his breast.

“Well,” he said. “what followed?”

“Why, Gubbs came up, and we jumped into'
em!” was the reply. “I knocked the gypsy
rascal on the head, and Gubbs seized hold of
the woman. He dragged her off then, and put
her in the wagon, where she was gagged, and is
now on her way to the Fly-by-Night.”

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“That, at least, is gained,” muttered the
baronet; “and now for the other part. No
one will believe the charge of that old gypsy
hag that I stole a child; many will believe
Edmond, son of the Viscount Cecil, when he
brands me as a murderer!”

He stopped. The sound of horses' hoofs
was heard without.

“he must die! How to compass that!” said
the baronet, in a low voice.

As he spoke, steps approached, the door
opened, and Earle entered, pale and tottering.

p517-309

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