We had music later in the evening--and I then heard, for the first time, how charmingly Lucilla played.

She was a born musician, with a delicacy and subtlety of touch such as few even of the greatest _virtuosi_ possess.

Oscar was enchanted.

In a word, the evening was a success.
I contrived, when our guest took his departure, to say my contemplated word to him in private, on the subject of his solitary position at Browndown.
Those doubts of Oscar's security in his lonely house, which I have described as having been suggested to me by the discovery of the two ruffians lurking under the wall, still maintained their place in my mind; and still urged me to warn him to take precautions of some sort, before the precious metals which he had sent to London to be melted, came back to him again.

He gave me the opportunity I wanted, by looking at his watch, and apologizing for protracting his visit to a terribly late hour, for the country--the hour of midnight.
"Is your servant sitting up for you ?" I asked, assuming to be ignorant of his domestic arrangements.
He pulled out of his pocket a great clumsy key.
"This is my only servant at Browndown," he said.