But where had he heard
it? For the life of him, Sir Norman could not tell, yet it was
as well known to him as his own. It had the tone, too, of one
far more used to command than entreaty; and Sir Norman, instead
of getting angry, us he felt he ought to have done, mechanically
answered:
"The watchman told you of the two young men who brought her out
and laid her in the dead-cart - I was one of the two."
"And who was the other?"
"A friend of mine - one Malcolm Ormiston."
"Ah! I know him! Pardon my abruptness, Sir Norman," said the
stranger, once more speaking in his assumed suave tone, "but I
feel deeply on this subject, and was excited at the moment. You
spoke of her being brought to the house of a friend - now, who
may that friend be, for I was not aware that she had any?"
"So I judged," said Sir Norman, rather bitterly, "or she would not
have been left to die alone of the plague. She was brought to my
house, sir, and I am the friend who would have stood by her to
the last!"
Sir Norman sat up very straight and haughty on his horse; and had
it been daylight, he would have seen a slight derisive smile pass
over the lips of his companion.
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