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"I DECLARE to Heaven, Valeria, I believe that monster's madnessis infectious--and you have caught it!"

This was Benjamin's opinion of me (on my safe arrival at thevilla) after I had announced my intention of returning MiserrimusDexter's visit, in his company.

Being determined to carry my point, I could afford to try theinfluence of mild persuasion. I begged my good friend to have alittle patience with me. "And do remember what I have alreadytold you," I added. "It is of serious importance to me to seeDexter again."

I only heaped fuel on the fire. "See him again?" Benjaminrepeated indignantly. "See him, after he grossly insulted you,under my roof, in this very room? I can't be awake; I must beasleep and dreaming!"

It was wrong of me, I know. But Benjamin's virtuous indignationwas so very virtuous that it let the spirit of mischief loose inme. I really could not resist the temptation to outrage his senseof propriety by taking an audaciously liberal view of the wholematter.

"Gently, my good friend, gently," I said. "We must makeallowances for a man who suffers under Dexter's infirmities, andlives Dexter's life. And really we must not let our modesty leadus beyond reasonable limits. I begin to think that I took rathera prudish view of the thing myself at the time. A woman whorespects herself, and whose whole heart is with her husband, isnot so very seriously injured when a wretched crippled creatureis rude enough to put his arm around her waist. Virtuousindignation (if I may venture to say so) is sometimes very cheapindignation. Besides, I have forgiven him--and you must forgivehim too. There is no fear of his forgetting himself again, whileyou are with me. His house is quite a curiosity--it is sure tointerest you; the pictures alone are worth the journey. I willwrite to him to-day, and we will go and see him togetherto-morrow. We owe it to ourselves (if we don't owe it to Mr.Dexter) to pay this visit. If you will look about you, Benjamin,you will see that benevolence toward everybody is the greatvirtue of the time we live in. Poor Mr. Dexter must have thebenefit of the prevailing fashion. Come, come, march with theage! Open your mind to the new ideas!"

Instead of accepting this polite invitation, worthy old Benjaminflew at the age we lived in like a bull at a red cloth.

"Oh, the new ideas! the new ideas! By all manner of means,Valeria, let us have the new ideas! The old morality's all wrong,the old ways are all worn out. Let's march with the age we livein. Nothing comes amiss to the age we live in. The wife inEngland and the husband in Spain, married or not married livingtogether or not living together--it's all one to the new ideas.I'll go with you, Valeria; I'll be worthy of the generation Ilive in. When we have done with Dexter, don't let's do things byhalves. Let's go and get crammed with ready made science at alecture--let's hear the last new professor, the man who has beenbehind the scenes at Creation, and knows to a T how the world wasmade, and how long it took to make it. There's the other fellow,too: mind we don't forget the modern Solomon, who has left hisproverbs behind him--the brand-new philosopher who considers theconsolations of religion in the light of harmless playthings, andwho is kind enough to say that he might have been all the happierif he could only have been childish enough to play with themhimself. Oh, the new ideas! the new ideas!--what consoling,elevating, beautiful discoveries have been made by the new ideas!We were all monkeys before we were men, and molecules before wewere monkeys! and what does it matter? And what does anythingmatter to anybody? I'm with you, Valeria, I'm ready. The soonerthe better. Come to Dexter! Come to Dexter!"

"I am so glad you agree with me," I said. "But let us do nothingin a hurry. Three o'clock to-morrow will be time enough for Mr.Dexter. I will write at once and tell him to expect us. Where areyou going?"

"I am going to clear my mind of cant," said Benjamin, sternly. "Iam going into the library."

"What are you going to read?"

"I am going to read--Puss in Boots, and Jack and the Bean-stalk,and anything else I can find that doesn't march with the age welive in."

With that parting shot at the new ideas, my old friend left mefor a time.

Having dispatched my note, I found myself beginning to revert,with a certain feeling of anxiety, to the subject of MiserrimusDexter's health. How had he passed through the interval of myabsence from England? Could anybody, within my reach, tell menews of him? To inquire of Benjamin would only be to provoke anew outbreak. While I was still considering, the housekeeperentered the room on some domestic errand. I asked, at a venture,if she had heard anything more, while I had been away of theextraordinary person who had so seriously alarmed her on a formeroccasion.

The housekeeper shook her head, and looked as if she thought itin bad taste to mention the subject at all.

"About a week after you had gone away ma'am," she said, withextreme severity of manner, and with excessive carefulness in herchoice of words, "the Person you mention had the impudence tosend a letter to you. The messenger was informed, by my master'sorders, that you had gone abroad, and he and his letter were bothsent about their business together. Not long afterward, ma'am, Ihappened, while drinking tea with Mrs. Macallan's housekeeper, tohear of the Person again. He himself called in his chaise, atMrs. Macallan's, to inquire about you there. How he can contriveto sit, without legs to balance him, is beyond myunderstanding--but that is neither here nor there. Legs or nolegs, the housekeeper saw him, and she says, as I say, she willnever forget him to her dying day. She told him (as soon as sherecovered herself) of Mr. Eustace's illness, and of you and Mrs.Macallan being in foreign parts nursing him. He went away, so thehousekeeper told me, with tears in his eyes, and oaths and curseson his lips--a sight shocking to see. That's all I know about thePerson, ma'am, and I hope to be excused if I venture to say thatthe subject is (for good reasons) extremely disagreeable to me."

She made a formal courtesy, and quitted the room.

Left by myself, I felt more anxious and more uncertain than everwhen I thought of the experiment that was to be tried on the nextday. Making due allowance for exaggeration, the description ofMiserrimus Dexter on his departure from Mrs. Macallan's housesuggested that he had not endured my long absence very patiently,and that he was still as far as ever from giving his shatt erednervous system its fair chance of repose.

The next morning brought me Mr. Playmore's reply to the letterwhich I had addressed to him from Paris.

He wrote very briefly, neither approving nor blaming my decision,but strongly reiterating his opinion that I should do well tochoose a competent witness as my companion at my coming interviewwith Dexter. The most interesting part of the letter was at theend. "You must be prepared," Mr. Playmore wrote, "to see a changefor the worse in Dexter. A friend of mine was with him on amatter of business a few days since, and was struck by thealteration in him. Your presence is sure to have its effect, oneway or another. I can give you no instructions for managinghim--you must be guided by the circumstances. Your own tact willtell you whether it is wise or not to encourage him to speak ofthe late Mrs. Eustace. The chances of his betraying himself allrevolve (as I think) round that one topic: keep him to it if youcan." To this was added, in a postscript: "Ask Mr. Benjamin if hewere near enough to the library door to hear Dexter tell you ofhis entering the bedchamber on the night of Mrs. EustaceMacallan's death."

I put the question to Benjamin when we met at the luncheon-tablebefore setting forth for the distant suburb in which MiserrimusDexter lived. My old friend disapproved of the contemplatedexpedition as strongly as ever. He was unusually grave andunusually sparing of his words when he answered me.

"I am no listener," he said. "But some people have voices whichinsist on being heard. Mr. Dexter is one of them."

"Does that mean that you heard him?" I asked.

"The door couldn't muffle him, and the wall couldn't muffle him,"Benjamin rejoined. "I heard him--and I thought it infamous.There!"

"I may want you to do more than hear him this time," I venturedto say. "I may want you to make notes of our conversation whileMr. Dexter is speaking to me. You used to write down what myfather said, when he was dictating his letters to you. Have yougot one of your little note-books to spare?"

Benjamin looked up from his plate with an aspect of sternsurprise.

"It's one thing," he said, "to write under the dictation of agreat merchant, conducting a vast correspondence by whichthousands of pounds change hands in due course of post. And it'sanother thing to take down the gibberish of a maundering madmonster who ought to be kept in a cage. Your good father,Valeria, would never have asked me to do that."

"Forgive me, Benjamin; I must really ask you to do it. You may beof the greatest possible use to me. Come, give way this once,dear, for my sake."

Benjamin looked down again at his plate, with a ruefulresignation which told me that I had carried my point.

"I have been tied to her apron-string all my life," I heard himgrumble to himself; "and it's too late in the day to get loosefrom her how." He looked up again at me. "I thought I had retiredfrom business," he said; "but it seems I must turn clerk again.Well? What is the new stroke of work that's expected from me thistime?"

The cab was announced to be waiting for us at the gate as heasked the question. I rose and took his arm, and gave him agrateful kiss on his rosy old cheek.

"Only two things," I said. "Sit down behind Mr. Dexter's chair,so that he can't see you. But take care to place yourself, at thesame time, so that you can see me."

"The less I see of Mr. Dexter the better I shall be pleased,"growled Benjamin. "What am I to do after I have taken my placebehind him?"

"You are to wait until I make you a sign; and when you see it youare to begin writing down in your note-book what Mr. Dexter issaying--and you are to go on until I make another sign, whichmeans, Leave off!"

"Well?" said Benjamin, "what's the sign for Begin? and what's thesign for Leave off?"

I was not quite prepared with an answer to this. I asked him tohelp me with a hint. No! Benjamin would take no active part inthe matter. He was resigned to be employed in the capacity ofpassive instrument--and there all concession ended, so far as hewas concerned.

Left to my own resources, I found it no easy matter to invent atelegraphic system which should sufficiently inform Benjamin,without awakening Dexter's quick suspicion. I looked into theglass to see if I could find the necessary suggestion in anythingthat I wore. My earrings supplied me with the idea of which I wasin search.

"I shall take care to sit in an arm-chair," I said. "When you seeme rest my elbow on the chair, and lift my hand to my earring, asif I were playing with it--write down what he says; and go onuntil--well, suppose we say, until you hear me move my chair. Atthat sound, stop. You understand me?"

"I understand you."

We started for Dexter's house.