"So I have already heard. But go on."
"You know I told you last night that yesterday morning two or three people called in Earl Street to inquire about Old Death, as he had promised to get a thief off at the police-court? Well—at that time, it seems, neither Mrs. Bunce or Toby knew what had become of Mr. Bones: but just afterwards, as I'm told, and when I had gone away from the house, up goes old Tidmarsh, the fence, with the news that Mr. Bones was dead, and that the funeral was going to take place in a couple of hours. Quick work, wasn't it, sir? So Toby Bunce and his wife went to the funeral; and now it's certain what has really become of Old Death. Tidmarsh told them he died suddenly three or four days ago at his house—of apoplexy. I'm sure he didn't look much like an apoplectic man."
"The best part of all this I learnt last night, soon after I left you," said Rainford.
"And I only heard it when I went up to Bunce's this morning," remarked Jacob. "Well, sir—when Mrs. Bunce had told me this, she said, 'Jacob, I want you to do a particular favour for me, and I will give you a sovereign.'—I asked her what it was. 'I'm pretty sure,' she says, 'that Mr. Rainford lives somewhere in Gray's Inn Lane, between Liquorpond Street and Calthorpe Street, on the same side of the way as those streets; and you must find out where it is, became I want particularly to know.'—So I promised her I would; and I of course took good care not to say that I had seen you last night. But I was determined to give you notice of Mrs. Bunce's desire to have you watched; and I have been knocking at every door in the neighbourhood, asking if such a gentleman as yourself lived there. In describing you, however, I did not mention any name."
"That was right, Jacob," said Tom; "because I am not known as Rainford here. But what the devil can that old wretch want with me? Has she inherited Old Death's scheming disposition? or does his vengeance pursue me, even from the tomb?"
These last words were totally unintelligible to Jacob, who knew not that the highwayman had had any share in the death of Mr. Benjamin Bones.
"Of course, sir," remarked the lad, after a pause, "I shall go to Mrs. Bunce this evening and assure her that no such person as yourself lives in this neighbourhood. I hope you are not offended with me for hunting after you?"
"Far from it, Jacob," returned Tom: "for I am sure I can trust you. At the same time, you must be cautious how you act, so as not to let Mrs. Bunce imagine that you are playing her false. Try and find out what she wants with me, and meet me at Tullock's to-morrow evening, between seven and eight. No—not at Tullock's either—because that woman knows I am in the habit of going there: but come to me at the public-house in Baldwin's Buildings where we were last night. Remember—to-morrow evening, at about half-past seven."
"I shall not fail, sir," responded Jacob: and he then took his departure.
The moment he was gone, Rainford hastened up stairs to the bed-room, whither the Jewess and little Charley had retired; and closing the door, he said, "My dear girl, we must be off directly. That horrid woman Mrs. Bunce, of whom I have spoken to you, is after me—and I am afraid for no good."