"By ——!" shouted Blossom, "he's gone! His comrade has been concealed somewhere, and has cut him loose."
"Gone!" echoed police-officers and servants.
"Gone!" ejaculated Tarleton, and fell back into a chair, and his head sunk upon his breast.
There he remained muttering and moaning, while the four apartments on the third floor were searched in every corner by Blossom and his gang. The search was vain.
"He can't be got far," cried Blossom. "Some o' you go down into the yard, and I'll s'arch this staircase."
Thus speaking, he took the light and disappeared through the open doorway of the staircase, while the other police-officers hastily descended the main stairway.
Tarleton remained at least five minutes in the darkness, while shouts were heard in the yard behind the mansion. Then, emerging from the room, he descended to the second floor, where he was confronted by the housekeeper, who was struck with pity at the sight of his haggard face.
"I am weak—I am faint; allow me to lean upon your arm," said Tarleton, and supported his weight upon the fat arm of the good lady.—"Support me to the bedchamber of my dear friend Somers,—the father of poor murdered Evelyn."
"This way, sir," said the housekeeper, kindly, "he's in there, with his private secretary—"
"With his private secretary, did you say?" faintly exclaimed Tarleton. "Close the door after me, good madam, I wish to talk with the dear old man."