With this resolve he took a walk out on the Strand on the following morning, looking carefully at the faces of the great multitude which thronged the street, and trying to find some one who might be suited to his purpose. In that crowd there were many who would have gladly undertaken his business if he had asked them, but Gualtier had made up his mind as to the kind of messenger which would be best suited to him, and was unwilling to take any other.
Among the multitude which London holds almost any type of man can be found, if one looks long enough. The one which Gualtier wished is a common kind there, and he did not have a long search. A street boy, sharp, quick-witted, nimble, cunning--hat was what he wanted, and that was what he found, after regarding many different specimens of that tribe and rejecting them. The boy whom he selected was somewhat less ragged than his companions, with a demure face, which, however, to his scrutinizing eyes, did not conceal the precocious maturity of mind and fertility of resource which lay beneath. A few words sufficed to explain his wish, and the boy eagerly accepted the task. Gualtier then took him to a cheap clothing store, and had him dressed in clothes which gave him the appearance of being the son of some small tradesman. After this he took him to his room in the hotel, and carefully instructed him in the part that he was to perform. The boy's wits were quickened by London life; the promise of a handsome reward quickened them still more, and at length, after a final questioning, in which he did his part to satisfaction, Gualtier gave him the address of the lodging-house.
"I am going west," said he; "I will be back before eight o'clock. You must come at eight exactly."
"Yes'r," said the boy.
"Very well. Now go."
And the boy, with a bob of his head, took his departure. The boy went off, and at length reached the place which Gualtier had indicated. He rang at the door.
A servant came.
"Is this Mr. Gillis's?"
"Yes."
"Is he in?"