There came flashing over Tynn’s thoughts the scene of that very evening.  His mistress’s shrieks and agitation when she broke from Miss West; the cries and sobs which had penetrated to their ears when she was shut afterwards in the study with her husband.  The unusual scene had been productive of gossiping comment among the servants and Tynn had believed something distressing must have occurred.  Not this; he had never glanced a suspicion at this.  He remembered the lines of pain which shone out at the moment from his master’s pale face, in spite of its impassiveness; and somehow that very face brought conviction to Tynn now, that Roy’s news was true.  Tynn let his arms fall on the gate again with a groan.

“Whatever will become of my poor mistress?” he uttered.

“She!” slightingly returned Roy.  “She’ll be better off than him.”

“Better off than who?”

“Than Mr. Verner.  She needn’t leave Verner’s Pride.  He must.”

To expect any ideas but coarse ones from Roy, Tynn could not.  But his attention was caught by the last suggestion.

“Leave Verner’s Pride?” slowly repeated Tynn.  “Must he?—­good heavens! must my master be turned from Verner’s Pride?”

“Where’ll be the help for it?” asked Roy, in a confidential tone.  “I tell you, Mr. Tynn, my heart’s been a-bleeding for him ever since I heard it. I don’t see no help for his turning out.  I have been a-weighing it over and over in my mind, and I don’t see none.  Do you?”

Tynn looked very blank.  He was feeling so.  He made no answer, and Roy continued, blandly confidential still.

“If that there codicil, that was so much talked on, hadn’t been lost, he’d have been all right, would Mr. Verner.  No come-to-life-again Fred Massingbird needn’t have tried at turning him out.  Couldn’t it be hunted for again, Mr. Tynn?”

Roy turned the tail of his eye on Tynn.  Would his pumping take effect?  Mrs. Tynn would have told him that her husband might be pumped dry, and never know it.  She was not far wrong.  Unsuspicious Tynn went headlong into the snare.

“Where would be the good of hunting for it again—­when every conceivable place was hunted for it before?” he asked.

“Well, it was a curious thing, that codicil,” remarked Roy.  “Has it never been heered on?”

Tynn shook his head.  “Never at all.  What an awful thing this is, if it’s true!”

“It is true, I tell ye,” said Roy.  “You needn’t doubt it.  There was a report a short while agone that the codicil had been found, and Matiss had got it in safe keeping.  As I sat here, afore you come up, I was thinking how well it ’ud have served Mr. Verner’s turn just now, if it was true.”

“It is not true,” said Tynn.  “All sorts of reports get about.  The codicil has never been found, and never been heard of.”

“What a pity!” groaned Roy, with a deep sigh.  “I’m glad I’ve told it you, Mr. Tynn!  It’s a heavy secret for a man to carry about inside of him.  I must be going.”