"Silence!" said Tom in a whisper; "we have no time to lose in idle chatter. Here's five guineas for you; and you must get this note conveyed secretly to Miss Torrens—Adelais, the eldest—you know."
"It shall be done, sir," replied Jeffreys. "I am already far in the good graces of the housemaid; the cook is old and deaf; and so there's no fear of my not being able to succeed."
"Good. And you will bring me the answer up the lane, where I shall wait for you."
"And how can you read it, when you get it?" demanded Jeffreys. "The night is not quite clear enough for that."
"The answer will be a verbal one—yes or no," replied Tom.
Jeffreys promised that no delay should occur on his part; and Rainford retraced his steps to the spot where he had left his horse.
Many novelists would here pause for the honest but somewhat tedious purpose of detailing all the reflections which passed through the mind of Rainford during the mortal half-hour that elapsed ere the sounds of footsteps upon the hard soil announced the approach of some person. But as we do not wish either to spin out our narrative with dry material, or to keep the reader in any unnecessary suspense, we will at once declare that at the expiration of the aforesaid thirty minutes John Jeffreys made his appearance at the appointed spot.
"What news?" demanded Tom impatiently.
"All right——"
"And the answer?"