"Yes, sir," answered Paul, wondering whether the master suspected who it was from or had any knowledge of its contents. He inspected the envelope as he hastened to his dormitory. No; it did not seem to have been tampered with. Mr. Weevil could not have seen its contents. On reaching his room, he tore open the envelope, and read:
"My dear Paul,—I received your first letter, but was away from home at the time, so was unable to answer it. Pardon my delay. You need not worry about the man Zuker. I am kept informed as to his movements.
"With regard to your master Mr. Weevil, I quite agree with you—I cannot think that he has anything to do with a traitor to his country, though appearances may be against him. At any rate, till anything is distinctly proved, give him the respect due to a scholar and a gentleman.
"To turn to other and more agreeable matters. I trust that Harry is getting on well. He seems too busy to write much. And when he does write, it's nothing but 'Plunger, Plunger, Plunger,' from start to finish. You would fancy there was nobody else but Plunger in existence. Tell him that when he can get away from Plunger we shall be very glad to hear from him again.
"I know the great friendship there is between you and my nephew Stanley. I only hope that Harry will find as good and worthy a friend. Tell Stanley that he has to come here during next vacation, and bring you with him. I think we shall be able to provide you with plenty of amusement, though I can't promise you it will be of so exciting a kind as you had last vacation.—Your sincere friend,
"Walter Moncrief."
A great feeling of relief came over Paul when he read the first part of this letter. There was nothing to worry about Zuker. Mr. Moncrief was kept informed of his movements; and yet, and yet——If Mr. Moncrief knew of his movements, why, in the name of wonder, did he not arrest him? But perhaps there were reasons against it. In any case, the answer was satisfactory, and he felt relieved.
It was with far different feelings he read the last part of the letter.
"I know the great friendship existing between you and Stanley," Paul read again, with sorrow. "I only hope that Harry will find as good a friend."
And the message? What was he to do with the message Mr. Moncrief had asked him to deliver to Stanley? He turned the letter over and over in his hand. He must deliver it to him somehow.