Then Vane turns it over and looks at the superscription. It is addressed to himself in a pretty, graceful hand, with a good deal of character in it.
Unfolding it, he reads, with staring eyes:
"Mr. Charteris:—Arriving at the hotel an hour ago, I learned, on inquiry, that you were at the 'Haven of Rest.' Will you come to me for ten minutes? Hastily,
"Reine Langton."
The earth seems to yawn beneath Mr. Charteris' feet. He mutters, on the uncontrollable spur of the moment, a profane expletive:
"The devil!"
"Eh, what, sir?" the lad mutters, uncomprehendingly.
The words recall Mr. Charteris to his senses, he having been momentarily shocked out of them.
"Who gave you this note, boy!" he demands, sternly.