He sat down. He was quite overcome with the revelation; it was, indeed, of a terrible nature, and he would have given much not to have become cognizant of it. 'Bills!' 'Money!' So that had been Mr. Hunter's excuse for the mystery! No wonder he sought to turn suspicion into any channel but the real one.
Austin was poring over the letter like one in a nightmare, when Mr. Hunter interrupted him. He crushed it into his pocket with all the aspect of a guilty man; any one might have taken him in his confusion so to be. Not for himself was he confused, but he feared lest Mr. Hunter should discover the letter. Although certainly written for him, Austin did not dare hand it to him, for it would never do to let Mr. Hunter know that he possessed the secret. Mr. Hunter had come in, holding out the other letter from Ketterford.
'This letter is for you, Mr. Clay. It has been addressed to me by mistake, I conclude.'
Austin took it, and glanced his eyes over it. It contained a few abrupt lines, and a smaller note, sealed, was inside it.
'My brother is in London, Austin Clay. I have reason to think he will be calling upon the Messrs. Hunter. Will you watch for him, and give him the inclosed note? Had he told me where he should put up in town, I should have had no occasion to trouble you.
A. Gwinn.'
Austin did not lift his eyes to Mr. Hunter's in his usual candid open manner. He could not bear to look him in the face; he feared lest his master might read in his the dreadful truth.
'What am I to do, sir?' he asked. 'Watch for Gwinn, and give him the note?'
'Do this with them,' said Mr. Hunter.
Striking a wax match, he held both Austin's note and the sealed one over the flame until they were consumed.
'You could not fulfil the request if you wished, for the man went back to Ketterford last night.'