“No.”

“I am glad of it; then it has been done skillfully.  You have been closely watched this month past by my orders.”

This made young Little feel queer.  Suppose he had attempted anything unlawful, his good friend here would have collared him.

“You’ll wonder that a good citizen like you should be put under surveillance; but I thought it likely your advertisement would either make the lady write to you, or else draw her back to the town.  She didn’t write, so I had you watched, to see if any body took a sly peep at you.  Well, this went on for weeks, and nothing turned up.  But the other night a young woman walked several times by your house, and went away with a sigh.  She had a sort of Protestant nun’s dress on, and a thick veil.  Now you know Mr Carden told you she was gone into a convent.  I am almost sure it is the lady.”

Little thanked him with all his soul, and then inquired eagerly where the nun lived.

“Ah, my man didn’t know that.  Unfortunately, he was on duty in the street, and had no authority to follow anybody.  However, if you can keep yourself calm, and obey orders—­”

“I will do anything you tell me.”

“Well, then, this evening, as soon as it is quite dark, you do what I have seen you do in happier times.  Light your reading-lamp, and sit reading close to the window; only you must not pull down the blind.  Lower the venetians, but don’t turn them so as to hide your face from the outside.  You must promise me faithfully not to move under any circumstances, or you would be sure to spoil all.”

Little gave the promise, and performed it to the letter.  He lighted his lamp, and tried to read book after book; but, of course, he was too agitated to fix his attention on them.  He got all Grace’s letters, and read them; and it was only by a stern effort he kept still at all.

The night wore on, and heart-sickness was beginning to succeed to feverish impatience, when there was a loud knock at the door.  Little ran to it himself, and found a sergeant of police, who told him in a low voice he brought a message from the chief-constable.

“I was to tell you it is all right; he is following the party himself.  He will call on you at twelve to-morrow morning.”

“Not before that?” said Little.  However, he gave the sergeant a sovereign for good news, and then, taking his hat, walked twenty miles out of Hillsborough, and back, for he knew it was useless his going to bed, or trying to settle to any thing.

He got back at ten o’clock, washed, breakfasted, and dozed on two chairs, till Ransome came, with a carpet-bag in his hand.

“Tell me all about it:  don’t omit any thing.”  This was Little’s greeting.