"Have you found out any thing more?"
"No, my lady. In my letters I explained the nature of the case. I made all the efforts I could to get at the bottom of this business, and to find out what you called the purpose of his life. But you see what insuperable obstacles were in the way. It was absolutely impossible for me to find out any thing in particular about his affairs. I could not possibly gain access to his papers. I tried to gain information from one of the clerks of Pendergrast--formed an acquaintance with him, gave him a dinner, and succeeded in getting him drunk; but even that was of no avail. The fellow was communicative enough, but the trouble was he didn't know any thing himself about this thing, and had no more knowledge of Lord Chetwynde's business or purposes than I myself had. I have done all or purposes than I myself had. I have done all that was possible for a man in my situation, and grieve deeply that I have nothing more definite to communicate."
"You have done admirably," said Hilda; "nothing more was possible. I only wished you to watch, and you have watched to good purpose. This much is evident, from your reports, that Lord Chetwynde has some all-engrossing purpose. What it is can not be known now, but must be known some day. At present I must be content with the knowledge that his purpose exists."
"I have formed some conjectures," said Gualtier.
"On what grounds? On any other than those which you have made known to me?"
"No. You know all."
"Never mind, then. I also have formed conjectures, and have a larger and broader ground on which to build them. What I want is not conjectures of any kind, but facts. If you have any more facts to communicate, I should like very much to hear them."
"Alas, my lady, I have already communicated to you all the facts that I know."
Hilda was silent for some time.
"You never spoke to Lord Chetwynde, I suppose?" said she at length.