So the earl went on to the Buck’s Head, and Lord Vane took a foot canter down to the Raven, to reconnoiter it outside.  He was uncommonly fond of planting himself where Sir Francis Levison’s eyes were sure to fall upon him—­which eyes were immediately dropped, while the young gentleman’s would be fixed in an audacious stare.  Being Lord Vane—­or it may be more correct to say, being the Earl of Mount Severn’s son, and under control, he was debarred from dancing and jeering after the yellow candidate, as the unwashed gentry of his own age indulged in, but his tongue and his feet itched to do it.

Mr. Carlyle took his seat in his private room, opened his letters, assorted them, marked on the back of some what was to be the purport of their answer, and then called in Mr. Dill.  Mr. Carlyle put the letters in his hand, gave some rapid instructions, and rose.

“You are in a hurry, Mr. Archibald?”

“They want me at the Buck’s Head.  Why?”

“A curious incident occurred to me last evening, sir.  I was an ear-witness to a dispute between Levison and Otway Bethel.”

“Indeed!” carelessly replied Mr. Carlyle, who was busy at the time looking for something in the deep drawer of the desk.

“And what I heard would go far to hang Levison, if not Bethel.  As sure as we are here, Mr. Archibald, they hold the secret of Hallijohn’s murder.  It appears that Levison—­”

“Stop!” interposed Mr. Carlyle.  “I would prefer not to hear this.  Levison may have murdered him, but it is no affair of mine, neither shall I make it such.”

Old Dill felt checkmated.  “Meanwhile Richard Hare suffers, Mr. Archibald,” he observed, in a remonstrating tone.

“I am aware he does.”

“Is it right that the innocent should suffer for the guilty?”

“No; very wrong.  But the case is all too common.”

“If some one would take up Richard Hare’s cause now, he might be proved innocent,” added the old man, with a wistful look at Mr. Carlyle.

“It is being taken up, Dill.”

A pause and a glad look.  “That’s the best news I have had for many a day, sir.  But my evidence will be necessary to your case.  Levison—­”

“I’m not taking up the case.  You must carry your news elsewhere.  It is no affair of mine, I say.”

“Then who is taking it up?” echoed Mr. Dill, in astonishment.

“Ball.  He has had a meeting with Richard, and is now acting for him under the rose.”

Mr. Dill’s eyes sparkled.  “Is he going to prosecute, Mr. Archibald?”

“I tell you I know nothing—­I will know nothing.  When the affair comes out to the public—­if it ever does come out—­I shall share in the information, Dill, and that is all.”

“Ah, well, I can understand.  But I shall go on to their office at once, Mr. Archibald, and inform them of what I overheard,” spoke old Dill, in vehement decision.

“That is not my affair either,” laughed Mr. Carlyle, “it is yours.  But remember, if you do go, it is Ball, not Treadman.”