Jacob Strong closed the door very softly, but in evident haste; dropped the curtains over it, and taking a key from his pocket, let himself out of the bed-chamber. He overtook Robert Otis, a few paces from the hotel, and touched him upon the shoulder.
"Mr. Otis, that copy-book—my master wishes to see it again—will you send it back?"
"Certainly," answered Robert, producing the book. "But what on earth can he want it for?"
"Come back with me, and I will tell you!"
"I will," said Robert; "but remember, friend, no more hints against Mr. Leicester, I cannot listen to them."
"I don't intend to hint anything against him now!" said Jacob, dryly, and they entered the hotel together.
Jacob took the young man to his own little room, and the two were locked in together more than an hour. When the door opened, Jacob appeared composed and awkward as ever, but a powerful change had fallen upon the youth. His face was not only pale, but a look of wild horror disturbed his countenance.
"Yet I will not believe it," he said, "it is too fiendish. In what have I ever harmed him?"
"I do not ask you to believe, but to know. Keep out of the way a single week, it can do harm to no one."