The Consequences of Crime.—A Familiar Friend.—A Cloud upon Learmont’s Felicity.
Being informed by his servants that his visitor had been shown into a small room adjoining the library, Learmont took a lamp from his table, and with a frowning brow and compressed lips, walked towards the room to demand of Britton, for he guessed too well it was he, the cause of so early a visit.
When he entered the room he found the smith lolling, at his ease, upon a costly couch, and although he did rise at the presence of Learmont, it was with an air and manner of extreme insolence.
“To what am I indebted for so early a visit, or rather I should say intrusion?” asked Learmont in a low hollow voice.
“Principally,” said Britton with an air of perfect indifference, “to assure you that I had arrived in London, perfectly safe.”
“Well?” said Learmont.
“Aye and well too,” answered the smith, purposely mistaking the other’s meaning. “I wish to know, likewise, if you have seen Jacob Gray?”
“I have not,” replied Learmont.
“Know you, squire, where in London he is to be found?”
“I do not. Has he not confided that to you?”