ed that the true heir of Verner's
Pride inhabited Verner's Pride; if he went back to Australia, the no
less mortifying fact might come out afterwards, that he was the heir to
Verner's Pride, and had run away from his own.

What was to be done? Roy suggested perhaps the best plan that could be
thought of--that Mr. Massingbird should remain in his cottage in
concealment, while he, Roy, endeavoured to ascertain the truth regarding
the codicil. And John Massingbird was fain to adopt it. He took up his
abode in the upper bedroom, which had been Luke's, and Mrs. Roy, locking
her front door, carried his meals up to him by day, Roy setting himself
to ferret out--as you may recollect--all he could learn about the
codicil. The "all" was not much. Ordinary gossipers knew no more than
Roy, whether the codicil had been found or not; and Roy tried to pump
Matiss, by whom he was baffled--he even tried to pump Mr. Verner. He
went up to Verner's Pride, ostensibly to ask whether he might paper
Luke's old room at his own cost. In point of fact, the paper was in a
dilapidated state, and he did wish to put it decent for John
Massingbird; but he could have done it without speaking to Mr. Verner.
It was a great point with Roy to find favour in the sight of Mr.
Massingbird, his possible future master. Lionel partially saw through
the man; he believed that he had some covert motive in seeking the
interview with him, and that Roy was trying to pry into his affairs. But
Roy found himself baffled also by Mr. Verner, as he had been by Matiss,
in so far as that he could learn nothing certain of the existence or
non-existence of the codicil.

Two days of the condemned confinement were sufficient to tire out John
Massingbird. To a man of active, restless temperament, who had lived
almost day and night under the open skies, the being shut up in a small,
close room was well-nigh unbearable. He could not stamp on its floor
(there was no space to _walk_ on it), lest any intrusive neighbour
below, who might have popped in, unwanted, should say, "Who have ye got
up aloft?" He could not open the window and put his head out, to catch a
breath of fresh air, lest prying eyes might be cast upon him.

"I can't stand this," he said to Roy. "A week of it would kill me. I
shall go out at night."

Roy opposed the resolve so far as he dared--having an eye always to the
not displeasing his future master. He represented to John Massingbird
that he would inevitably b