“But this Grotait.  Do you know him?”

“Oh, he is a public character.  Keeps ‘The Cutlers’ Arms,’ in Black Street.”

“I understand he repudiates all these outrages.”

“He does.  But the workmen themselves are behind the scenes; and what do they call him?  Why, ‘Old Smitem.’”

“Ah!  You are one of those who look below the surface,” said the courtier.

He then turned the conversation, and, soon after, went away.  He had been adroit enough to put his questions in the languid way of a man who had no personal curiosity, and was merely discharging a commission.

Mr. Ransome, as a matter of form, took a short note of the conversation; but attached no importance to it.  However, he used the means at his command to find out Little’s abode.  Not that Mr. Coventry had positively asked him to do it; but, his attention being thus unexpectedly called to the subject, he felt desirous to talk to Little on his own account.

Mr. Coventry went straight to “The Cutlers’ Arms,” but he went slowly.  A powerful contest was now going on within him; jealousy and rage urged him onward, honor and gratitude held him back.  Then came his self-deceiving heart, and suggested that Miss Carden had been the first to break her promise (she had let Jael Dence into Little’s secret), and that he himself was being undermined by cunning and deceit:  strict notions of honor would be out of place in such a combat.  Lastly, he felt it his duty to save Miss Carden from a degrading connection.

All these considerations, taken together, proved too strong for his good faith; and so stifled the voice of conscience, that it could only keep whispering against the deed, but not prevent it.

He went direct to “The Cutlers’ Arms.”  He walked into the parlor and ordered a glass of brandy-and-water, and asked if he could see Mr. Grotait, privately.  Mr. Grotait came in.

“Sit down, Mr. Grotait.  Will you have any thing?”

“A glass of ale, sir, if you please.”

When this had been brought, and left, and the parties were alone, Coventry asked him whether he could receive a communication under a strict promise of secrecy.

“If it is a trade matter, sir, you can trust me.  A good many have.”

“Well then, I can tell you something about a workman called Little.  But before I say a word, I must make two express conditions.  One is, that no violence shall be used toward him; the other, that you never reveal to any human creature, it was I who told you.”

“What, is he working still?”

“My conditions, Mr. Grotait?”

“I promise you absolute secrecy, sir, as far as you are concerned.  As to your other condition, the matter will work thus:  if your communication should be as important as you think, I can do nothing—­the man is not in the saw-trade—­I shall carry the information to two other secretaries, and shall not tell them I had it from Mr. Coventry, of Bollinghope.”  (Mr. Coventry started at finding himself known.) “Those gentlemen will be sure to advise with me, and I shall suggest to them to take effectual measures, but to keep it, if possible, from the knowledge of all those persons who discredit us by their violent acts.”