by Edwin Hodder
CHAPTER X.
MAKING DISCOVERIES.
"Will you grant me leave of absence for to-day?" Charles Hardy asked Mr.Sanders, a few minutes after George had left the office, on the gloomyand eventful morning when he disclosed the secret of his guilt.
"I hardly know what to say--what to do," answered Mr. Sanders, puffingand blowing; "business will come to a stand-still--the shutters hadbetter go up at once. But if you want particularly to be off to-day, Isuppose I must manage to spare you."
"I may want several days, sir; but if that should be the case, I willreturn to the office to-morrow in time to see Mr. Compton immediately hecomes back"
It was but the work of five minutes for Charles to write a short note,change his office coat, and prepare to start The note was addressed toMr. Brunton, care of Mr. Sanders till called for, and ran as follows:--
"MY DEAR SIR,
"Do not be more uneasy than necessary about George. I think I have a clue by which his address may be ascertained. If so, I will report progress to you to-night; but I leave this note for you, in order to allay the distress you will feel in learning he is not here. Rest assured of my earnest desire to serve my dear friend, and to relieve him if possible. My time and services you may command in this cause. In haste,
"Yours very faithfully,
"CHARLES HARDY."
Hardy had a clue, it is true; but it was a very faint one. He hadnoticed, upon the table of Mr. Compton's room, a "Bradshaw's RailwayGuide;" and as he had not seen one there previously, he imagined it musthave been brought in by George, with his carpet-bag and other things,and there left. One page of the book was turned down; Hardy had eagerlyopened it, and found it referred to the departures from the GreatWestern Station.
"I'll go on at once to that station," he thought. "He told me he mightbe leaving England; perhaps he has gone to Liverpool, Plymouth, or Cork,or some shipping place that can be reached by this line. At all events,I have no other chance but this."
With all speed Charles drove off to Paddington. Diligently he connedover the intricate mysteries of "Bradshaw" as he journeyed along,endeavouring to ascertain when trains would be leaving for any of theplaces to which he had imagined his friend might be going. It is hardlynecessary to say he could not find what he wanted; but his anxiety andsuspense were relieved by the search.
Before alighting at the station, Hardy carefully glanced all around toascertain that George was not in sight; for it was not his intention tospeak to him or endeavour to turn him from his purpose, knowing that, inhis present excited state he would stand no chance whatever offrustrating his friend's plans, but would rather be adopting the mostcertain means of destroying his own. Hardy's present object was only totry and find out to what part George would travel, and then communicatewith Mr. Brunton and get his advice how to proceed.
Cautiously he walked along the platform, looking into everywaiting-room, and making inquiries of the porters it they had seen anyone answering to the description he gave of George. This course provingfutile, he went to the ticket-office, and consulted a time-table, tofind whether any train had recently left for any of the places which, hefelt convinced, were the most probable for George to choose. An hour ortwo had elapsed since the last train left, and George had not had morethan twenty minutes' start ahead of him. He took down in his pocket-bookthe time for the departure of the next train; and then choosing asecluded spot in the office, where he would be out of observation, andyet able to see all who came up for tickets, he waited patiently untilthe slow, dawdling hand of the clock neared the hour.
Hardy felt the chances were fifty to one that while he was waiting thereGeorge might be at some other station, leaving London without a trace tohis whereabouts; he thought whether, after all, George might not havepurposely, instead of accidentally, left the "Bradshaw" with thatparticular page turned down, in order that, should he be sought, a wrongscent might be given; and even if he intended to travel by this line andto one of these particular places, might he not choose nighttime as themost desirable for his object? But Hardy had _purpose_ in him; he wouldnot throw away the strongest clue he had, although that was faint, andhe resolved to stay there until midnight, it need be, rather thanabandon his design,
His patience was not put to such a test as this. While he was standing,with palpitating heart, behind that door in the booking office, Georgewas in the porters' room, not a hundred yards off, waiting with deeperanxiety for the clock to point to the hour when the train should start.Presently, the first bell rang. A number of people, with bags andpackages in hand, came crowding up to the ticket office, but George wasnot there. Hardy could scarcely refrain from rushing out to look around.What if he should get into a train without a ticket, or send a guard toprocure one for him? A hundred doubts and fears were pressing upon him,and--the second bell rang. Two or three minutes more, and the trainwould be off. At the moment he was consulting his pocket-book to see howlong a time must elapse before the next train would leave, he startedwith joyful surprise to see George walk hurriedly up to the office andobtain a ticket. As hurriedly he disappeared. "Now is my chance,"thought Hardy.
"Where did that young man take his ticket for?" he asked the clerk, assoon as he had elbowed his way past the few remaining persons who werebefore the window.
"Which one?" said he; "two or three young men have just taken tickets."
"I mean the last ticket but one you issued?"
"Plymouth."
"Hurrah!" cried Hardy, to the astonishment of the clerk, who probablywould not have given the information, had he not thought the inquirerwanted a ticket for the same place.
Hardy was too cautious, even in the moment of his surprise, to let hisobject be lost by over-haste; he knew it would not be wise to lethimself be seen, and though he longed to rush after George and say,"Good-bye, cheer up, old chap!" he only allowed himself the painfulpleasure of looking through the window of a waiting-room, and seeing hisold friend and chum, sad and solitary, get into the carriage. Shriekwent the whistle, and away went the train. Whether it whizzed along sorapidly, or the smoke and steam enveloped it, or from whatever cause itwas, Charles Hardy found his sight growing dimmer, until a mist shut outthe scene.
From the station Hardy went home. He wanted to tell his parents some ofthe occurrences of the day, and let them know of his expected absence.He knew that he had difficulties to meet. George had always been kindlyreceived by Mr. and Mrs. Hardy; they both liked him, and were glad whenhe came to spend an evening at their house. But latterly they had beenrather anxious about the growing intimacy between him and their son, andoften had a word of caution been given that Charles should be verycareful how far he allowed his friend to influence him.
Now Hardy could only tell his parents that George had got into worsetrouble than ever--such trouble that he was obliged to leave hissituation, and had decamped, no one except himself knew where. Of courseMr. and Mrs. Hardy would not put a good construction upon the affair. Heanticipated they would say, "Well, I always feared he would come tothis;" and would try to dissuade Charles from having anything more to dowith him. It was not to be expected they would look with such leniencyupon the matter as he would. Therefore, it was with no small difficultyhe proceeded, immediately upon reaching home, to tell them of what hadoccurred. It was a short story, and soon told.
"Now, father," said Hardy, before allowing him time to bring objectionsto the part he had performed that day, "I have promised Mr. Brunton toassist in finding George, and I have told Mr. Sanders I may be away somedays from the office. I know Mr. Compton will not object to this; ifthat is all, I can have this leave of absence instead of the holiday hepromised me next mouth. George must be found; if I can help it, he shallnot leave England--at all events, not in this way. I know it will killMrs. Weston, if he does."
"Well, Charles, I know your kindheartedness, and I appreciate it; but Icannot give my consent to the plan. Recollect, by associating yourselfwith your former friend now, you do injury
to yourself; he has gothimself into disgrace--he must bear the burden of it. What will Mr.Compton think, when he hears that you--you who have always maintainedsuch strict integrity--have gone off after a dishonest, runaway clerk?"
"I never wish to run counter to your opinions, father, if I can help it;but I must do so now, George Weston is my friend--not _was_ my friend,as you said just now--and I would not act such a cowardly part as todesert him. Don't be vexed at what I say; I know you advise for my good;but you do not know how I feel in this matter. Suppose our positionswere changed, and I had done as George has done--there is noimpossibility in such a case--I am too weak against temptation to doubtthat had I been placed in the circumstances similar to his, I might havedone the same, Suppose I had, what would you have thought of me? ShouldI have been your dishonest, runaway son, to whom all friendship must bedenied, and who might be left to bear any burden alone, because I hadbrought it upon myself? No, father; you would be the first to seek andcomfort me, and the first to cry 'Shame!' upon any of my friends whoturned and kicked me the moment I had fallen."
Mr. Hardy could not resist the force of his son's argument, nor could herefrain from admiring the genuineness of his friendship for George, andthe manly determination he had formed to assist him.
"Well, Charles," he said, "I do not blame you for taking this course. Ihope it may be serviceable to your friend, and without any injury toyourself."
"Do not fear, father. And now I must pack up a few necessaries in mybag, and be off to Mr. Brunton's. If I do not return home to-morrow, donot be uneasy about me, and I will write to you every day to say howthings are going on."
When Hardy arrived at the house of Mr. Brunton, he found him, as heanticipated, in a high state of nervous anxiety.
"I am so thankful you have arrived, Mr. Hardy," he said, shaking himwarmly by the hand: "and I need not tell you Mrs. Weston has beenwaiting with great impatience to see you."
"Mrs. Weston! is she here?"
"Yes; not many minutes after you had left the office I called there, andreceived the sad news about--about George. I at once telegraphed to Mrs.Weston to come up to town, and it needed no urging to hasten her, forshe had only a short time before received a letter from him, which hadfilled her with alarm. But let us go to her at once," said Mr. Brunton,leading the way to the drawing-room; "she entreated I would bring you toher the moment you arrived."
As Hardy entered, Mrs. Weston sprang to meet him.
"Have you found George?--where is he?" she asked, and the look ofstruggling hope and despair was touching to witness.
"I have not found him, Mrs. Weston, but I know the place of his presentdestination. He has gone to Plymouth;" and then Hardy briefly explainedthe incidents of the morning.
"I cannot tell you how thankful I am to you, Mr. Hardy," said Mrs.Weston, as he concluded. "May God bless you for your kindness to my poolGeorge!"
"George would have done more for me, Mrs. Weston," Hardy replied; "but,at present, little or nothing has been done. Have you any plans, and canI help you in them?"
"We must go on as soon as possible to Plymouth, and find out where heis. He may perhaps be on the eve of starting away by some of the vesselsin the port. Not a minute should be lost."
"Then, sir, I will go down to Plymouth by the mail train which leaves inabout a couple of hours, if you will let me; and I promise you that Iwill do my best to find him," said Hardy.
This unexpected proposition removed an infinite burden from Mr.Brunton's mind. He felt that it was his duty to see Mr. Compton at once,and he had other engagements which made it impossible for him to leavethat night. He did not like Mrs. Weston travelling alone, in her presentanxious and desponding state, and had been at his wit's end all day toknow how to manage.
"But, Mr. Hardy, can you go? Have you consulted your friends at home?Can you manage to get leave of absence from the office?--remember theywill be short of hands there," asked Mr. Brunton.
"I have made all arrangements at home, sir and my only difficulty isabout Mr. Compton. But if you will please see him as soon as he returns,and explain why I have left, I am sure he will not be displeased. He wasso fond of George, I know he would have said 'Go, by all means,' had hebeen at home."
"I will undertake to set the matter right with him about you," said Mr.Brunton; "but I doubt whether he will ever allow me to mention poorGeorge's name. Oh! Hardy, this is a sad, sad business!"
"It is, sir; but it is sadder for George than for his friends," repliedHardy. "I cannot bear to think of the trouble he is passing through atthis moment. It has cost him much to take the step he has taken, andeverything must be done to get him back from his voluntary banishment"
"And everything shall be done that can," said Mr. Brunton. "God grant heis still in England! I feel sure the sight of his mother and his friendssorrowing for him, instead of turning against him as he supposes, willalter his determination."
"Mr. Hardy, may I place myself under your protection until my brotherjoins us at Plymouth?" said Mrs. Weston, abruptly. "I will go down bythe mail train to-night; I cannot rest until he is found."
Arrangements were speedily made, and that night the train bore off Mrs.Western and Charles Hardy to Plymouth.
On the following morning Mr. Brunton called at Falcon-court. Mr. Comptonhad not yet arrived, but was expected hourly. Not wishing to lose time,which that morning was particularly precious to him, he asked for somewriting materials, and seating himself in Mr. Compton's room, intendedto occupy himself until his arrival. After he had been there abouthalf-an-hour, his attention was arrested by hearing the door of theclerk's office open, and an inquiry made.
"Is Mr. George Weston here?"
"Mr. Weston has left the office," answered Williams, who came forward toanswer the inquiry. "Left yesterday morning."
"Indeed! Where has he gone to? why did he leave?"
"I don't think anyone knows where he has gone to," answered Williams;"and I am not disposed to say why he left."
Williams did not know why he had left, nor were the circumstances of thecase known to any of the clerks; but many surmises had been made whichwere unfavourable to him, and it was with the exultant pleasure a meanspirit feels in a mean triumph, that Williams had at last an opportunityof speaking lightly of the once good name of George Weston, to whom hehad ever cherished feelings of animosity.
"Is Mr. Compton in, or the manager?" asked the visitor. "I amexceedingly anxious to know what has become of my friend."
"Between ourselves," said Williams, "the less you say about your friendthe better. It strikes me--mind, I merely give you this confidentiallyas my impression--that, when Weston turns up again, his friends will notbe over-anxious to renew their acquaintance."
"What do you mean? I do not understand you."
"What I mean is this. When a clerk is dismissed from an office duringthe absence of the principal, leaves suddenly and has to hidehimself--more particularly when accounts at the banker's do not quitebalance--one cannot help thinking there is a screw loose somewhere."
Mr. Brunton overheard all this; he who had never before heard anunfavourable sentence spoken against his nephew. He had not fullyrealised until that moment the painful position in which George's crimehad placed him, nor the depth of his nephew's fall in position andcharacter. He longed to have been able to stand up in vindication ofGeorge against the terrible insinuations of Williams; he would have beenintensely thankful if he could have accosted the stranger, and said,"That man is guilty of falsehood who dares to speak against the goodname of my nephew." But there he stood, with blood boiling and lipsquivering, unable to contradict one sentence that had been uttered.
"If Weston _does_ turn up," continued Williams, "will you leave anymessage or letter, or your name, and it shall be forwarded?"
"My name is Ashton," said the stranger; "but it is unnecessary to saythat I called. It does not do to be mixed up with matters like these. Ihalf feared something of the sort was brewing, but I had no idea tilingswould have taken so
sudden a turn."
Mr. Brunton could restrain his impatience no longer.
"Mr. Ashton," he said, coming suddenly upon the speakers, "will youfavour me by stepping inside a minute or two? I shall be glad to speakto you."
Ashton was taken by surprise at seeing Mr. Brunton where he leastexpected to see him.
"I have been placed in the uncomfortable position of a listener to yourconversation in the next room," said Mr. Brunton, closing the door; "andI cannot allow those remarks made by the clerk with whom you weretalking to pass unqualified."
"They need little explanation, sir," said Ashton. "George Weston hasbeen on the verge of a catastrophe for some months, and I believe I canfill in the outline of information which you heard given me."
"I am in ignorance of the causes which have led to my nephew'sdisgrace," answered Mr. Brunton; "nor am I desirous to hear them fromany lips but his. You were one of his most intimate friends, I believe,Mr. Ashton?"
"Yes; I think I may say his most intimate friend."
"And you knew he was on the 'verge of a catastrophe.' I have no doubtyou acted the part of a friend, and sought to turn his steps from thefatal brink?"
"Well, as to that, he was fully competent to manage his own affairswithout my interference. I did tell him he would come to grief, if hedid not give up playing."
"And did you add to that advice that he should quit those associateswho had assisted to bring him to such a pass?"
"Certainly not; why should I meddle with him in his companionships? Youspeak, Mr. Brunton, as if I were your nephew's keeper. If George Westonliked to live beyond his means, he was at liberty to do it for me. I amsorry he made such a smash at last, but it is all that could beexpected. If ever you see George again, sir, you will oblige me byconveying one message. I did not think when he came to me, two nightsago, to try and borrow a hundred pounds, that he intended to mix me upin any disgraceful business like that of this morning. Had I known it,instead of fretting myself about his welfare, he should have--"
"Made the discovery," interrupted Mr. Brunton, "that he never had afriend in you. My idea of a friend is one who seeks the well-being ofanother; speaks to him as a second conscience in temptation; loves witha strength of attachment which cannot be broken; and, though sorrowingover error, can still hope and pray for and seek to restore the erring.Mr. Ashton, I do not wish to say more upon this matter; it is painfulfor me to think how my nephew has been led downward, step after step, bythose whom he thought friends, and how sinfully he has yielded. Whenyou think of him, recollect him as the boy you knew at school, and tryto trace his course down to this day. You know his history, hiscompanionships, his whole life. Think whether _you_ have influenced it,and how; and if your conscience should say, 'I have not been hisfriend,' may you be led by the remembrance to consider that no manliveth to himself: and that for those talents and attractions with whichyou are endowed, you will have hereafter to give account, together withthe good or evil which has resulted from them."
To Ashton's relief the door opened, and Mr. Compton entered. Hastilytaking up his hat, he bade adieu to Mr. Brunton, glad of thisopportunity to beat a retreat.
"Confound those Methodists!" he uttered to himself, as he walked upFleet-street; "speak to them, they talk sermons; strike them, and theydefend themselves with sermons; cut them to the quick, and I believethey would bleed sermons. But why should he pounce upon me? What have Idone? A pretty life George would have led if it hadn't been for me, andthis is all the thanks I get. I wish to goodness he had not made such afool of himself; I shall have to answer all inquiries about him, and itis no honour to be linked in such associations."
The meeting between Mr. Compton and Mr. Brunton was one of mingledfeelings of pain and mortification. One had lost a valuable clerk, forwhom he cherished more than ordinary feelings of regard, and upon whomhe had hoped some day the whole management of the business woulddevolve; the other had lost almost all that was dear to him on earth,one whom he had watched, and loved, and worked for, and to whose brightfuture he had looked forward with increasing pleasure, until it hadbecome a dream of life. Both were aggrieved, both were injured; but bothfelt, in their degree, such strong feelings in favour of George, despitehis disgrace and crime, that they could look with more sorrow than angeron the offender, and deal more in kindness than in wrath.
Mr. Compton could not but agree with Mr. Brunton that he must bediscovered, if possible; and although he could never receive him underany circumstances into his office again, nor could ever have for him thefeelings he once entertained, still he felt free to adhere to his firstdetermination not to prosecute or take any steps in the case, nor allowit to have more publicity than could be helped.
"He is still young," said he; "let him try to redeem the past. But itis right he should feel the consequences of his actions, and no doubt hewill, as he has to encounter the difficulties which will meet him inseeking to retrieve the position he has lost. You know me too well,Brunton, to imagine that I do not estimate aright the extent of hisguilt; and you will give me credit for possessing a desire to do as Iwould be done by in this case. I believe many a young man has beenruined through time and eternity, by having been dealt with tooharshly--though in a legal sense quite justly; at the same time it hasbeen the only course to check a growing habit of crime in others. I knowwell that in some instances it would be a duty to prosecute, if only asa protection from suspicion of upright persons. But there areexceptional cases, and I consider this to be one of them, althoughperhaps many of our leading citizens might think me culpable in myclemency; but I think I know your nephew sufficiently well to bewarranted in the belief that he feels his criminality, and will take alasting warning from this circumstance. And now, what do you intend todo, since you know my determination?"
Mr. Brunton explained the plans he had formed, and the valuableassistance which Hardy had rendered him. He was pleased to hear from hisinjured friend the heartily expressed wish that the end in view might beaccomplished. Mr. Brunton had surmounted one great difficulty, and hecould not feel sufficiently thankful at the issue. Although he had knownMr. Compton for many years, and had seen innumerable evidences of hisbenevolence and good nature, he knew, too, that he was the verypersonification of honesty and uprightness; and he dreaded lest,incensed against George for his ingratitude, and fearing the influenceof his conduct might spread in the office, he would take measuresagainst him which, although perfectly just, would, by their severity,prove deeply injurious in such a case, and reduce George, who wasnaturally sensitive of shame, to a position from which he might never berestored.
At the very earliest opportunity Mr. Brunton went down to Plymouth.Business of the greatest importance, which he could not set aside, haddetained him in London until Friday, and his uneasiness had beenincreased during that time by two notes he had received--one from Mrs.Weston, and the other from Hardy--telling him of the unsuccessful issueof their search. With an anxious heart he alighted at the station atPlymouth, and walked to the hotel, where his sister and Hardy werestaying. The look of despair he read in Mrs. Weston's countenance, asthey met, told him that no favourable result had been obtained.
"We have been everywhere, and tried every possible plan to find poorGeorge," she said, when Mr. Brunton sat down beside her and Hardy tohear the recital of their efforts. "I should have broken down long ago,had it not been for our dear friend here, who has been night and day atwork, plotting schemes and working them out, and buoying me up withhopes in their result. But I feel sure George cannot be in Plymouth, andour search is vain."
"So Mrs. Weston has said all along," said Hardy; "but I cannot agreewith her; at all events, I will not believe it until we find out wherehe has gone. He has not taken a passage in any of the vessels, as far aswe can ascertain; he is not in any of the inns in the town, I think, forwe have made the most searching inquiries at all of them; but in thislarge place it is difficult to find any one without some positive clue."
"Have you been able to find out whether he really
arrived here?" askedMr. Brunton.
"I think I have. One of the porters rather singularly recollected aperson, answering to the description, arriving by the train in whichGeorge left London. It seems he was hastening away from the stationwithout giving up his ticket No doubt he was nervous and absent in mind;and when the porter called to him, he started and seemed as if he werealarmed: but in a minute he produced his ticket and went out The porterlooked suspiciously, I suppose, at the ticket, and evidently so atGeorge, for he was able to give a full description of him."
"That is so far satisfactory," said Mr. Brunton; "but have you made anymore discoveries to render you tolerably sure he is still in Plymouth."
"Yes, I have been to every shop where they fit out passengers for a seavoyage, and have found out one where he purchased some articles ofclothing. But the clearest trace I have of him is from the shippingagents. He was certainly looking over vessels on the morning after hisarrival here, for one or two captains have described him to me. I havebeen a great many times down among the shipping, but have not made morediscoveries, and I cannot get any information from the shipping offices;but in this you will probably meet with more success, sir, than I have,for a young man is not of sufficient importance to command attentionfrom business men."
Mr. Brunton was fully conscious of the difficulties which were in theway of finding George, even supposing he was still in Plymouth: but hewas not without hope. He could not find words enough to express hisstrong approbation of all that Hardy had done, and he felt sure that hecould have no better assistant in the undertaking than he. A series ofplans were soon formed: Hardy was to keep watch upon those vessels whichhe thought it probable George might choose, and offer rewards to sailorsand others for information. Mr. Brunton was to try and discover thenames and descriptions of passengers booked at the shipping offices; andMrs. Weston was to keep a general lookout on outfitters' warehouses, andother places where it might be probable George would visit.
But every plan failed. Saturday night came, and, worn out with fatigue,the anxious trio sat together to discuss the incidents of the day, andpropose fresh arrangements for the morrow. Sunday was not a day of restto them; from early morning they were all engaged in differentdirections in prosecuting their search, and not until the curtain ofnight was spread over the town, and the hum of traffic and din of bustlehad ceased, did they return to the hotel.
After supper, Mr. Brunton took out his pocket Bible, and read aloud somefavourite passages. They seemed to speak with a voice of hope andcomfort, and inspired fresh faith in the unerring providence of Him whodoeth all things well.
Very earnest were the prayers offered by that little party, as theyknelt together and commended the wanderer, wherever he might be, to thecare and guidance of the good providence of God. They felt how uselesswere all plans and purposes unless directed by a higher source thantheir own; and while they prayed for success upon the efforts put forth,if in accordance with His will, they asked for strength and resignationto bear disappointment Nor were their prayers merely that he whom theywere seeking might be found, but that he might find pardon andacceptance with God, and that the evil which they lamented might, in theinfinitely wise purposes of Providence, be controlled for good.
With fresh zeal and renewed hope the three set forth on the followingmorning to prosecute their several plans. Hardy had learned that one ortwo vessels would sail that day, and he was full of expectation that hemight meet with some tidings.
Mr. Brunton felt rather unwell that morning--the press of business whichhad detained him in London, the excitement of the journey, and thefatigue of the previous days, had told upon his health. As he waspassing through a quiet part of the town, he called in at anapothecary's to get a draught, which he hoped might ward off any seriousattack of sickness. While the draught was being prepared, Mr. Brunton,who was intent upon his object and never left a stone unturned,interrogated the apothecary, a gentlemanly and agreeable man, upon theneighbourhood, the number of visitors in that locality, and othersubjects, ending by saying he was trying to discover the residence of arelative, but without any knowledge of his address.
In the midst of the conversation, a servant-girl, without bonnet orshawl, came hurriedly into the shop, out of breath with running.
"Oh, sir, if you please, sir, missus says, will you come at once to seethe young gentleman as stays at our house?--he's taken bad."
"Who is your mistress, my girl?" asked the chemist.
"Oh, sir, it's Mrs. Murdoch, of ---- Street; and the young gentleman isa lodger from London, and he's going away to-morrow to the Indies orsomewheres; but do come, sir, please--missus'll be frightened to death,all by herself, and him so dreadful bad."
Mr. Brunton had been an anxious listener. Was it possible that the younggentleman from London could be George?
"How long has your lodger been with you?" he asked the girl.
"A week come Wednesday--leastways, come Tuesday night,"--was theaccurate answer.
Mr. Brunton, with eyes flashing with excitement, turned to the medicalman. "Will you allow me to accompany you on this visit?" he asked; "Ihave reason to believe that your patient may be the relative for whom Iam searching."
"Then come, by all means," answered the doctor; and, preceded by thegirl, who was all impatience to get home, and kept up a pace which madeMr. Brunton puff lustily, they reached the house of Mrs. Murdoch.