“I am quite willing to act upon your advice,” said Albert; “and indeed, I am not a little curious and anxious to know what Learmont can possible say to me this evening, when I call upon him, and demand Ada, according to the solemn promises he made me.”
With this understanding Albert and the magistrate repaired to the study of the latter, where they took an accurate copy of the confession, which Albert placed in his pocket, while Sir Francis charged himself with the preservation of the original.
“Return as soon as possible,” said Sir Francis, “and, above all things, be mindful of treachery.”
“I think I am more than a match for the squire,” said Albert, smiling.
“Be that as it may,” said the magistrate, “remember that during your stay at his house there will be a force within hearing of you should you require any assistance. We must trust this man of many crimes as little as we possibly can.”
Without saying anything to Ada of his intention, for he knew that her anxiety would be very great if she knew that he was venturing into the house of Learmont, Albert, just as the shades of evening began to fall upon the streets and house left the residence of the magistrate, and proceeded at a sharp pace towards Learmont’s splendid abode.
He was readily admitted, and upon being shown into the room where he usually saw Learmont, he found him seated with a multitude of papers before him, apparently very busily engaged. He started as he saw Albert, and yet he felt intensely gratified, for it tended much to assure him of his safety. His only difficulty consisted in his want of knowledge of whether Albert had seen him or not at Gray’s.
“You are true to your appointment, Mr. Seyton,” he said, after a few moments thought. “Have you heard any news of Jacob Gray?”
“He is murdered,” said Albert.
Learmont turned a shade paler as he said,—