There could be no
doubt Signor Brunoni was a Frenchman--a French spy come to discover
the weak and undefended places of England, and doubtless he had his
accomplices. For her part, she, Mrs Forrester, had always had her
own opinion of Miss Pole's adventure at the "George Inn"--seeing
two men where only one was believed to be. French people had ways
and means which, she was thankful to say, the English knew nothing
about; and she had never felt quite easy in her mind about going to
see that conjuror--it was rather too much like a forbidden thing,
though the rector was there. In short, Mrs Forrester grew more
excited than we had ever known her before, and, being an officer's
daughter and widow, we looked up to her opinion, of course.
Really I do not know how much was true or false in the reports
which flew about like wildfire just at this time; but it seemed to
me then that there was every reason to believe that at Mardon (a
small town about eight miles from Cranford) houses and shops were
entered by holes made in the walls, the bricks being silently
carried away in the dead of the night, and all done so quietly that
no sound was heard either in or out of the house. Miss Matty gave
it up in despair when she heard of this. "What was the use," said
she, "of locks and bolts, and bells to the windows, and going round
the house every night? That last trick was fit for a conjuror.
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