Obliged to be satisfied with this promise, Osmond departed.  On the third night, at a late hour, he returned.  He did not, however, find Luke Hatton.  The apothecary, it appeared, had been absent from home during the last three days, and the old woman who attended upon him was full of uneasiness on his account.  Her master, she said, had left a letter on his table, and on investigation it proved to be for Osmond.  In it the writer directed him, in the event of his non-return before the time appointed, to repair without delay, well armed, to the vaults beneath Mompesson’s old habitation near the Fleet, and to make strict search for him throughout them.  He also acquainted him with a secret entrance into the house, contrived in the walls beneath the lofty north-eastern turret.  On reading this letter, Osmond at once understood his ally’s plan, together with its danger, and felt that, as he had not returned, he had, in all probability, fallen a victim to his rashness.  Telling the old woman whither he was going, and that inquiries might be made there for him on the morrow, if he did not re-appear with her master, he set out at once for the place indicated.

We shall, however, precede him.

Ever since Mompesson had been taken to the Fleet, his habitation had been deserted.  The place was cursed.  So much odium attached to it,—­so many fearful tales were told of it,—­that no one would dwell there.  At the time of its owner’s committal, it was stripped of all its contents, and nothing was left but bare walls and uncovered floors.  Even these, from neglect and desertion, had become dilapidated, and a drearier and more desolate place could not be imagined.  Strict search had been made by the officers of the Star-Chamber for concealed treasure, but little was found, the bulk having been carried off, as before related, by the myrmidons.  Nevertheless, it was supposed there were other secret hoards, if a clue to them could only be found.  Mompesson had been interrogated on the subject; but he only made answers calculated to excite the cupidity of his hearers without satisfying them, and they fancied he was deceiving them.

On the night in question, to all outward appearance, the house was sombre and deserted as usual, and the city watch who passed it at midnight, and paused before its rusty gates and its nailed-up door, fancied all was secure.  The moon was at the full, shining brightly on the sombre stone walls of the mansion,—­on its windows, and on the lofty corner turret, whence Mompesson used so often to reconnoitre the captives in the opposite prison; and, as certain of the guard looked up at the turret, they laughed at its present emptiness.  Yet they little dreamed who was there at the time, regarding them from the narrow loop-hole.  After the pause of a few minutes they moved on, and the gleam of their halberts was presently seen, as they crossed Fleet Bridge, and marched towards Ludgate.