My friend is an old man, and it might concern him unduly--even
alarm him. I promise you there shall be nothing that could cause him
anxiety in our silence, or at which he could take umbrage."

"Go on, sir!" said Adam simply.

"You see, your uncle is now an old man. I know it, for we were boys
together. He has led an uneventful and somewhat self-contained life, so
that any such condition of things as has now arisen is apt to perplex him
from its very strangeness. In fact, any new matter is trying to old
people. It has its own disturbances and its own anxieties, and neither
of these things are good for lives that should be restful. Your uncle is
a strong man, with a very happy and placid nature. Given health and
ordinary conditions of life, there is no reason why he should not live to
be a hundred. You and I, therefore, who both love him, though in
different ways, should make it our business to protect him from all
disturbing influences. I am sure you will agree with me that any labour
to this end would be well spent. All right, my boy! I see your answer
in your eyes; so we need say no more of that. And now," here his voice
changed, "tell me all that took place at that interview. There are
strange things in front of us--how strange we cannot at present even
guess. Doubtless some of the difficult things to understand which lie
behind the veil will in time be shown to us to see and to understand. In
the meantime, all we can do is to work patiently, fearlessly, and
unselfishly, to an end that we think is right. You had got so far as
where Lilla opened the door to Mr. Caswall and the negro. You also
observed that Mimi was disturbed in her mind at the way Mr. Caswall
looked at her cousin."

"Certainly--though 'disturbed' is a poor way of expressing her
objection."

"Can you remember well enough to describe Caswall's eyes, and how Lilla
looked, and what Mimi said and did? Also Oolanga, Caswall's West African
servant."

"I'll do what I can, sir. All the time Mr. Caswall was staring, he kept
his eyes fixed and motionless--but not as if he was in a trance. His
forehead was wrinkled up, as it is when one is trying to see through or
into something. At the best of times his face has not a gentle
expression; but when it was screwed up like that it was almost
diabolical. It frightened poor Lilla so that she trembled, and after a
bit got so pale that I thought she had fainted. However, she held up and
tried