Mr. Willet thanked him warmly for the proffered kindness, and then the two men separated, each strongly and favourably impressed by the other.
“That startling mystery is solved,” said Mr. Markland, taking a deep breath. “This is the other Dromio. I don’t wonder that Mr. Allison and Mr. Lamar were deceived. I was, for a moment. What a likeness he bears to Mr. Lyon! Ah, well!—the matter has worried me, for a short time, dreadfully. I was sure that I knew my man; but this strange affirmation in regard to him threw me into terrible doubts. Thank fortune! the mystery is completely solved. I must go back to the city this very afternoon, and see Brainard. It will not do for him to remain long in doubt. His mind might take a new direction, and become interested in some other enterprise. There is no other man with whom, in so important a business as this, I would care to be associated.”
And Mr. Markland, thus communing with himself, moved onward, with light and rapid footsteps, toward his dwelling. A mountain had been lifted from his heart.
CHAPTER XIV.
“YOU had a visitor this afternoon,” said Mr. Markland, as he sat conversing with his wife and daughter, soon after his arrival from the city.
“I believe not,” returned Mrs. Markland. “Oh, yes. I met a gentleman coming from this direction, and he said that he had been here.”
“A gentleman? Who?”
“Our new neighbour, Mr. Willet.”
“I did not know that he called.”
“He may only have inquired for me at the door,” said Mr. Markland. “I wish you had seen him.”
“What kind of a man does he appear to be?” asked Mrs. Markland.
“My first impressions are favourable. But there is a singular fact in regard to his appearance in our neighbourhood.”
Mrs. Markland and Fanny looked up curiously.
“I have been very much worried, since my return;” and Mr. Markland’s eyes rested on his daughter, as he said this. The change that instantly passed over her face a little surprised him. Her eyes fell under his gaze, and the crimson blood rose to her forehead.
“What has worried you?” tenderly inquired Mrs. Markland.
“I met with a strange rumour in the city.”
“About what?”
“About Mr. Lyon.”
Mrs. Markland’s whole manner changed, her usual quiet aspect giving place to strongly manifested interest. Her eyes, as well as those of her husband, turned to-ward Fanny, who, by partial aversion, sought to hide from close observation her suffused countenance.
“What of Mr. Lyon?” asked Mrs. Markland.
“At least two persons have affirmed, quite positively, that they saw Mr. Lyon, as well in the city as in this neighbourhood, on the day before yesterday,” said Mr. Markland.
The colour suddenly receded from the face of his wife, who looked half-frightened at so unexpected an announcement. Fanny turned herself further away from observation.
“Saw Mr. Lyon! Can it be possible he did not go South at the time he said that he would leave?” Mrs. Markland’s voice was troubled.
“He went, of course,” was the cheerful, confident answer of Mr. Markland.
“You are sure of it?”
“Oh, yes!”
“How do you explain the mystery, if it may so be called?”
“After hours of doubt, perplexity, and uneasiness, I met the man himself.”
“Not Mr. Lyon?”
Fanny started at her father’s announcement, and partly turned toward him a face that was now of a pallid hue.
“No; not Mr. Lyon,” said Mr. Markland, in answer to his wife’s ejaculation, “but a person so nearly resembling him, that, for a few moments, even I was deceived.”
“How singular! Who was the man?”
“Our new neighbour, Mr. Willet.”
“Why, Edward! That is remarkable.”
“Yes, it is really so. I had just parted from Mr. Allison, who was certain of having seen Mr. Lyon in this neighbourhood, on the day before yesterday, when I met Mr. Willet. I can assure you that I was startled when my eyes first rested upon him. For a few moments, pulsation was suspended. A nearer approach corrected my error; and a brief conversation with our new neighbour, gave me a strong prepossession in his favour.”
Before this sentence was completed, Fanny had arisen and gone quietly from the room. For a few moments after her departure, the father’s and mother’s eyes rested upon the door through which her graceful form had vanished. Then they looked at each other, sighed, and were silent.
The moment Fanny was beyond the observation of her parents, wings seemed added to her feet, and she almost flew to her chamber.
“Bless the child! What’s the matter? She looks frightened to death!” exclaimed Aunt Grace, who met her on the way, and she followed her quickly. But, when she tried to open the chamber door, she found it locked within.
