His first impulse was to suspect some new trap, some new and cunning trap that, perhaps, the unconscious Ella was being used to bait.  Taking the letter from the boy, he said: 

“How did you know it was for me?”

“Lady told me,” answered the boy grinning.  “She said as I was to look out for a chap answering to the name of Robert Dunn, with his face so covered with hair you couldn’t see nothing of it no more’n you can see a sheep’s back for wool.  ’As soon as I set eye on ‘ee,’ says I, ‘That’s him,’ I says, and so ’twas.”

He grinned again and slouched away and Dunn stood still, holding the letter in his hand and not opening it at first.  It was almost as though he feared to do so, and when at last he tore the envelope open it was with a hand that trembled a little in spite of all that he could do.  For there was something about this strange communication and the means adopted to deliver it to him that struck him as ominous in the extreme.  Some sudden crisis must have arisen, he thought, and it appeared to him that Ella’s knowledge of where to find him implied a knowledge of Deede Dawson’s plans that meant she was either his willing and active agent and accomplice, or else she had somehow acquired a knowledge of her stepfather’s proceedings that must make her position a thousand times more critical and dangerous than before.

He flung the envelope aside and began to read the contents.  It opened abruptly, without any form of address, and it was written in a hand that showed plain signs of great distress and agitation:  “You are in great danger.  I don’t know what.  I heard them talking.  They spoke as though something threatened you, something you could not escape.  Be careful, very careful.  You asked me once if I had ever heard a man with a high, squeaky voice, and I did not answer.  It was to a man with a voice like that I gave the packing-case I took away from here the night you came.  Do you remember?  He was here all last night, I think.  I saw him go very early.  He is Mr. Walter Dunsmore.  I saw him that day at Wreste Abbey, and I knew I had seen him before.  This morning I recognized him.  I am sure because he hurt his hand on the packing-case lid, and I saw the mark there still.  He and my stepfather were talking all night, I think I couldn’t hear everything.  There is a General Dunsmore.  Something is to happen to him at three o’clock and then to you later, and they both laughed a great deal because they think you will be blamed for whatever happens to General Dunsmore.  He is to be enticed somewhere to meet you, but you are not to be there till four, too late.  I am afraid, more afraid than ever I have been.  What shall I do?  I think they are making plans to do something awful.  I don’t know what to do.  I think my stepfather suspects I know something, he keeps looking, looking, smiling all the time.  Please come back and take mother and me away, for I think he means to kill us both.”