“You have not told me where he lives.”
“’Tis near at hand, although to reach it he traversed thrice the space he needed to have done.”
“’Tis like him,” said Learmont. “Most like the man.”
“I know not the name of the street, but I could guide you there, sir.”
Learmont sprung to his feet.
“Now, now. On the moment,” he cried. “My hat—my sword. You shall show me now.”
Then suddenly speaking in a subdued tone, he added,—
“You see, Mr. Seyton, that I am an enthusiast, and what I take an interest in possesses my mind most fully. You perceive that having promised you to stir in this matter, I am inclined to do so well, and amply so; you shall show me the house in which this man lives, and then I will mature some plan which we can jointly put in execution when we meet again. You understand me quite, Mr. Seyton?”
“I do, sir, and am most thankful to you.”
“You shall have cause to thank me,” said Learmont—then as a servant appeared in answer to the bell he had sounded, he cried in a loud voice,—