He turned round, and, by the light of a lamp, beheld the lad Jacob.
"Well, you young rascal!" exclaimed Tom—but with an anger more affected than real, for he was not a man to cherish vindictive feelings towards an enemy so utterly unworthy his resentment as that pale, weak, and sickly boy: "I wonder you have the face to accost me, after joining in that abominable scheme to intrude upon the privacy of my dwelling three or four nights ago."
"I hope you will forgive me, Mr. Rainford," said the lad: "for you must know," added he emphatically, "it wasn't altogether my fault. I was bound to obey the man who gave me food. But do you know, sir, what has become of him? Oh! Mr. Rainford—I am well aware that he did deserve punishment at your hands; but—pray forgive me—I hope——"
"You hope that I did not kill him?" said the highwayman in a deep, hollow-toned voice. "Why—do you suppose that I am a likely person to commit murder—intentionally?"
"Oh! no—no," replied the boy. "And yet——"
"And yet what?" asked Rainford.
"And yet it is so strange that he should never have been seen at any of his usual haunts," added Jacob.
"Come along with me," said Rainford abruptly. "We cannot stand talking in the street—and I want to have some conversation with you. But do you know any place close at hand—any public-house, I mean—where we could have a private room for an hour or so?"
"Yes, sir," replied Jacob, after a moment's reflection. "This way."
He turned abruptly down into a narrow, dark, dirty thoroughfare, called Baldwin's Gardens, and conducted the highwayman into a low public-house, where, upon inquiry, they were immediately accommodated, with a private room on the second floor.