“No doubt he enjoyed himself that evening.  He kept spying round for you, didn’t he?”

“I saw him look once or twice, and I give him a look back, but I couldn’t do much more then; I said to myself I’d keep my eye on him to see if he came out after the first act.  And sure enough he did, and there was me standing in his way, and he put his hand out to give me something, and just nodded and went on.  It wasn’t money, but a bit of paper twisted up and something wrote on it in pencil.”

“I thought so, and where were you to meet him?”

“Well, I knew there couldn’t be no harm, him being my own uncle,” Polly replied with the air of repelling an accusation.

“Of course not; who said there was?”

“Well, it was Lincoln’s Inn Fields, the next night.  And there he was, sure enough, with his face half hid as if he was ashamed of himself, as well he might be.  And he begins with saying as he was very ill and he didn’t think he’d live long.  But I wasn’t to think as he forgot me, and when he died I should find myself provided for.  And I wasn’t to say a word to nobody or he’d take my name out of his will at once.”

Gammon laughed.

“It’s all right, Polly.  Don’t be afraid.  All between me and you.  But I’ll bet he didn’t tell you where he was living?”

She shook her head.

“Of course not, I knew that,” said Gammon, with a mysterious air.  “Well, go on.  He met you again, didn’t he?”

“Once more, only once.”

“Yes, and gave you little presents and told you to be a good gyurl and never disgrace your uncle.  Oh, I know him!  But he took precious good care not to let you know where he lived.”

“But you know?” she exclaimed.

“No fear, Polly.  You shall, too, if you have patience, though I don’t say it’ll be just yet.”

A few more questions, and the girl had told everything—­Mr. Clover’s failure to keep the third appointment and her fruitless watchings since then.

“He got a bit timid, Polly, you see,” exclaimed Gammon.  “And he was right, too; you couldn’t keep it to yourself, you see.  You spoil everything with that temper of yours, my dear.  Don’t be cross, my beauty; it don’t matter much, comes to the same thing in the end.  Now just look here, Polly.  You haven’t seen those two ladies again, nor either one of them?”

“You’re wrong there,” she cried triumphantly.

“Hollo!  Steady, Polly.  It wasn’t the foreigner then?”

“How did you know?”

Gammon chuckled over his good luck.

“Never mind.  We’ll come to that another time.  Who was she with, my dear?”

“Another lady and gentleman, much younger than her.  I stood near ’em as long as I could and listened with all my ears, but I couldn’t hear nothing any use.  But I saw as they went away in a private kerridge, all three together; I saw that much.”

“And found where they went to?”