“How very clever! Good heavens, what an excellent idea!”
“Was the young gentleman hurt, ma’am, in the scuffle last night?” inquired I.
“No, I believe not much, but I wish to know where he is, to write to him; could you find out?” I told her where we had met him, and what had passed. “That was Lady Auburn’s,” replied she; “he is often there—she is our cousin but I don’t know where he lives, and how to find him I know not. His name is William Wharncliffe. Do you think you could find him out?”
“Yes, ma’am, with a little trouble it might be done. They ought to know where he is at Lady Auburn’s.”
“Yes, some of the servants might—but how will you get to them?”
“That, ma’am, I must find out. It may not be done in one day, or two days, but if you will look every morning under this brick, if there is anything to communicate you will find it there.”
“You can write and read, then?”
“I should hope so, ma’am,” replied I, laughing.
“I don’t know what to make of you. Are you really a waterman?”
“Really, and—” She turned her head round at the noise of a window opening.