Toward evening of the following day Mr. Ellerton stood booted and spurred upon the steps of the Glenburn House, impatiently waiting for the groom to bring around a horse.
He was going for a gallop over the distant hills to get a breath of fresh air and a view of the surrounding country.
While standing thus he saw a dirty little urchin, barefooted and ragged, behind one of the large fluted pillars which supported the porch, and every little while he caught him peeping out upon him with curious eyes.
He bore this scrutiny as long as he cared to, and then walked up to him, saying, somewhat crossly:
“What are you prowling about here for, you youngster? Anything wanted?”
The little fellow tore off his tattered cap, and catching hold of the shock of yellow, tangled hair that hung down over his forehead, gave it a vigorous pull.
He then thrust his hand deep into his trousers pocket, pulled out a soiled and crumpled piece of paper, which he put hastily into Mr. Ellerton’s hand, and with a low “Mum’s the word, sir,” he darted like a flash from his sight.
Somewhat amused at this singular proceeding, while at the same time he was unconsciously impressed by the urchin’s mysterious manner, he glanced around to see if any one had observed the event before he opened the note.
There was no one about, and he unfolded it and read the contents.
It was written in a round, manly hand, which Mr. Ellerton thought had a familiar look; but where or when he had seen that same handwriting before, he could not remember.