“Yes—­yes!  I shall not be observed in the dark,” sharply rejoined Mr. Lisle; “and you, Caleb, must keep my secret from every body, especially from Sowerby.  I shall be here in time to see him to-morrow night, and he will be none the wiser.”  This was said with a slight chuckle; and as soon as his simple preparations were complete, Mr. Lisle, well wrapped up, and his face almost hidden by shawls, locked his door, and assisted by Jennings, stole furtively down stairs, and reached unrecognized the railway station just in time for the train.

It was quite dark the next evening when Mr. Lisle returned; and so well had he managed, that Mr. Sowerby, who paid his usual visit about half an hour afterwards, had evidently heard nothing of the suspicious absence of his esteemed client from Watley.  The old man exulted over the success of his deception to Caleb, the next morning, but dropped no hint as to the object of his sudden journey.

Three days passed without the occurrence of any incident tending to the enlightenment of Mr. Jennings upon these mysterious events, which, however, he plainly saw had lamentably shaken the long-since failing man.  On the afternoon of the fourth day, Mr. Lisle walked, or rather tottered, into Caleb’s stall, and seated himself on the only vacant stool it contained.  His manner was confused, and frequently purposeless, and there was an anxious, flurried expression in his face, which Jennings did not at all like.  He remained silent for some time, with the exception of partially inaudible snatches of comment or questionings, apparently addressed to himself.  At last he said, “I shall take a longer journey to-morrow, Caleb—­much longer; let me see—­where did I say?  Ah, yes! to Glasgow; to be sure to Glasgow!”

“To Glasgow, and to-morrow!” exclaimed the astounded cobbler.

“No, no—­not Glasgow; they have removed,” feebly rejoined Mr. Lisle.  “But Lucy has written it down for me.  True—­true; and to-morrow I shall set out.”

The strange expression of Mr. Lisle’s face became momentarily more strongly marked, and Jennings, greatly alarmed, said, “You are ill, Mr. Lisle; let me run for Dr. Clarke.”

“No—­no,” he murmured, at the same time striving to rise from his seat, which he could only accomplish by Caleb’s assistance, and so supported, he staggered indoors.  “I shall be better to-morrow,” he said faintly, and then slowly added, “To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow!  Ah, me!  Yes, as I said, to-morrow, I”—­He paused abruptly, and they gained his apartment.  He seated himself, and then Jennings, at his mute solicitation, assisted him to bed.