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 should awaken or assist, by some name, phrase, or anecdote, the slumbering train of association.

He suffered, indeed, during the whole scene the agonies which he so richly deserved; yet his pride and interest, like the fortitude of a North American Indian, manned him to sustain the tortures inflicted at once by the contending stings of a guilty conscience, of hatred, of fear, and of suspicion.
'I wish to ask the name, sir,' said Bertram, 'of the family to whom this stately ruin belongs.' 'It is my property, sir; my name is Glossin.' 'Glossin--Glossin ?' repeated Bertram, as if the answer were somewhat different from what he expected.