“Mr. Merl, sir,” said the other, dropping his voice to a whisper, “the new owner of Cro' Martin; he's here, with two or three great lawyers and one or two of his friends. They came down to serve the notices and give warning—”
“Well, what is to be done? where can I be accommodated?” broke in Repton, hastily. “Isn't Mr. Massing-bred in the house?”
“No, sir, he had to move out, too; but, sure enough, he left a bit of a note for you in the bar.” And he hastened off at once to fetch it.
Repton broke open the seal impatiently, and read:—
“My dear Mr. Repton,—I regret that you 'll find the inn full on your arrival; they turned me out yesterday to make room for Mr. Merl and his followers. Happily, Mr. Nelligan heard of my destitution, and offered me a quarter at his house. He also desires me to say that he will deem it a very great favor if you will accept the shelter of his roof, and in hopeful anticipation of your consenting, he will wait dinner for your arrival. From my own knowledge, I can safely assure you that the offer is made in a spirit of true hospitality, and I sincerely wish that you may accept it.
“Yours very faithfully,
“J. Massingbred.”
“Where does Mr. Nelligan live?” asked Repton, as he refolded the letter.
“Just across the street, sir. There it is.”
“Set me down there, then,” said Repton. And the next moment he was at Nelligan's door.