might
best make his escape,--as a man is apt to think when delays of this
kind prove too long for the patience,--but the man returned, and with
a cold unfriendly air bade Roden to follow him. Roden was quite sure
that some evil was to happen, so cold and unfriendly was the manner
of the man; but still he followed, having now no means of escape. The
man had not said that the Marquis would see him, had not even given
any intimation that the Marquis was in the house. It was as though
he were being led away to execution for having had the impertinence
to knock at the door. But still he followed. He was taken along a
passage on the ground floor, past numerous doors, to what must have
been the back of the house, and there was shown into a somewhat dingy
room that was altogether surrounded by books. There he saw an old
gentleman;--but the old gentleman was not the Marquis of Kingsbury.

"Ah, eh, oh," said the old gentleman. "You, I believe, are Mr. George
Roden."

"That is my name. I had hoped to see Lord Kingsbury."

"Lord Kingsbury has thought it best for all parties
that,--that,--that,--I should see you. That is, if anybody should
see you. My name is Greenwood;--the Rev. Mr. Greenwood. I am his
lordship's chaplain, and, if I may presume to say so, his most
attached and sincere friend. I have had the honour of a very long
connexion with his lordship, and have therefore been entrusted by
him with this,--this,--this delicate duty, I had perhaps better call
it." Mr. Greenwood was a stout, short man, about sixty years of age,
with pendant cheeks, and pendant chin, with a few grey hairs brushed
carefully over his head, with a good forehead and well-fashioned
nose, who must have been good-looking when he was young, but that he
was too short for manly beauty. Now, in advanced years, he had become
lethargic and averse to exercise; and having grown to be corpulent
he had lost whatever he had possessed in height by becoming broad,
and looked to be a fat dwarf. Still there would have been something
pleasant in his face but for an air of doubt and hesitation which
seemed almost to betray cowardice. At the present moment he stood
in the middle of the room rubbing his hands together, and almost
trembling as he explained to George Roden who he was.

"I had certainly wished to see his lordship himself," said Roden.

"The Marquis has thought it better not, and I must say that I agree
with the Marquis." At the moment Roden hardly knew h