“Take the morning express and deliver these yourself,” he said, quietly. “I shall follow you by the midday train. When you have done so, find Mr. Newcombe and keep him in sight. You understand?”
“Quite, sir,” said Slummers, and disappeared as silently as usual.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
It was Jack’s last day in town. Tomorrow he would be at Earl’s Court, and in the evening would be riding as fast as a horse could carry him to Una.
The hours seemed to drift with leaden wings.
It was no use going to Park Lane, for the blinds were down, and Lady Bell was at Earl’s Court. It was no use going to the club, for the whitewashers had taken possession of it; never had Jack been so utterly bored and wearied. At last he strolled into the park, and sat on one of the seats and stared at the Row, giving himself up to thoughts of Una, and picturing their meeting on the morrow.
He lingered in the park till dusk: then he went home to dress.
“Still writing, old man?” he said, as he entered, and laid his hand on Leonard’s shoulder.
“Halloa! is that you, Jack?” said Leonard, throwing down his pen. “I have been expecting you.”