however, his presence of mind, stimulated by the thrilling
reflection that it was no inhabitant of the other world which
stood before him, but an injured man whom the slightest want of
dexterity on his part might lead to acquaintance with his rights,
and the means of asserting them to his utter destruction. Yet his
ideas were so much confused by the shock he had received that his
first question partook of the alarm.

'In the name of God, how came you here?' said Glossin.

'How came I here?' repeated Bertram, surprised at the solemnity of
the address; 'I landed a quarter of an hour since in the little
harbour beneath the castle, and was employing a moment's leisure
in viewing these fine ruins. I trust there is no intrusion?'

'Intrusion, sir? No, sir,' said Glossin, in some degree recovering
his breath, and then whispered a few words into his companion's
ear, who immediately left him and descended towards the house.
'Intrusion, sir? no, sir; you or any gentleman are welcome to
satisfy your curiosity.'

'I thank you, sir,' said Bertram. 'They call this the Old Place, I
am informed?'

'Yes, sir; in distinction to the New Place, my house there below.'

Glossin, it must be remarked, was, during the following dialogue,
on the one hand eager to learn what local recollections young
Bertram had retained of the scenes of his infancy, and on the
other compelled to be extremely cautious in his replies, lest he