'I have been so stupid,' said Mrs. Jones, 'as to forget to buy some sealing-wax, and I particularly want to seal the letter I am writing; do you think your mistress can lend me a bit?'
'Certainly, madam,' said Patty, and ran away with alacrity to fetch the desired article, which she brought back.
'Stay a moment,' said Mrs. Jones, 'I shall have done with it presently, and I would rather return it to Mrs. Watts, if you please; I shall get some when I am out.' She then proceeded to seal two directed envelopes, which she stamped and placed in a bag beside Mr. Dunn's letter.
Having thus elaborately established the fact that she had been writing letters and was about to post them, Mrs. Jones put on her bonnet and cloak and went out, having received accurate instructions from Patty as to where she could find the pillar-post, and how she was to turn in order to reach the brush-shop.
In about half an hour Mrs. Jones returned. In her hand was a small paper parcel, and on her arm hung the leather reticule, with the spring gaping open, so that as Patty opened the door to admit her she could see that the bag was empty. During the time that had elapsed between her coming in and the return of her brother, Mr. Clarke, Mrs. Jones made no attempt to occupy herself in any way whatever. She sat by the fire with an intent and brooding face, while the cloth was laid for dinner and Patty was coming in and out of the room. She held a newspaper between her face and the light, and the girl concluded that Mrs. Jones was very tired, for she did not seem so friendly or inclined to talk as she had done in the beginning.
At six o'clock Mr. Clarke returned, and greeted his sister cheerfully, with an inquiry as to how she found the rooms, and whether she was getting things straight and comfortable. Mrs. Jones assured him that everything was all right, and told Patty that dinner might be sent up as soon as it was ready.
At length the two were alone, and then Mrs. Jenkins told Thornton Carey, with eager though subdued excitement, that she had secured possession of a priceless document, which had, she believed, placed their prey securely within their reach.
No time had been lost by Thornton Carey in carrying out the resolution of noble and disinterested friendship at which he had arrived. The details of what he was to do on reaching England had been fixed between him and Bryan Duval and their professional advisers; in fact, it was most important so to fix them, it was indispensable that he should be guided to a certain extent by circumstances, and that he should act with such caution and circumspection as to avoid the danger of awakening any suspicion on the part of Warren at his presence in England.
When a full statement of the conclusion at which our friends had arrived had been laid before Helen Griswold, she was entirely overwhelmed by the conviction that they were right. That she had no power to contend with the active and operative part of their decision, that some one must undertake the unmasking of her deadly enemy, was clear to her; but that Thornton Carey should be the person to do it appeared a curious complication of the difficulties and distress of her fate. To one man who had loved her, her love had brought death in its most horrible and appalling form--that of base, cruel, cowardly murder; to another man whom she had loved purely and nobly indeed, but with a sentiment which was a growing force according as every day, hour, made her more and more dependent upon him for support and counsel and encouragement, her love was about to bring trouble and danger.
That there could be danger in his pursuit of Warren, Thornton Carey utterly denied, but uselessly; nothing could remove from Helen's mind the conviction of the power as well as the villany of this man. The frightful skill, the deadly calculation, and the hideous success with which he had carried out his machinations against her husband, had impressed Helen with an almost preternatural dread of him.