Frank Raynor may have drawn many a deep breath in his life, but never so deep a one as he drew now. Mechanically he folded the letter and placed it in an inner pocket.
"Are you there, sir?"
The question came from outside the door, in the voice of one of the servants. Frank unbolted it.
"Lunch is on the table, sir."
"Is it?" returned Frank, half bewildered. "I don't want any to-day, James. Just say so. I am going out for a stroll."
The letters from Cornwall were never delivered at Eagles' Nest until the midday post. Frank took his hat, and went out; bending his steps whithersoever they chose to take him, so that he might be alone. Strolling on mechanically, in deep thought, he plunged into a dark coppice, and asked himself what he was to do. The letter had disturbed him in no ordinary degree. It had taken all his spirit, all his elasticity out of him: and that was saying a great deal for Frank Raynor.
"I wish I could hang Blase Pellet!" he broke forth in his torment and perplexity. "He deserves it richly. To disturb my poor uncle with his malicious tongue! Villain!"
But Frank was unconsciously unjust. It was not Blase Pellet who had disturbed Dr. Raynor. At least, he had not done it intentionally. To do Blase justice, he was vexed that the doctor should have heard it, for he held him in great respect and would not willingly have grieved him. In an evil moment, when Blase had taken rather more than was quite necessary—an almost unprecedented occurrence with him—he had dropped the dangerous words to Andrew Float.
"Yes, I must hide from him, as my uncle says," resumed Frank, referring to the advice in the letter. "There's no help for it. He could be a dangerous enemy. For my own sake; for—every one's sake, I must keep myself in some shelter where he cannot find me."
Emerging on to the open ground, Frank lifted his eyes, and saw, standing near him, the man in grey, whom they had christened the Tiger. He was leaning against the tree with bent head and folded arms, apparently in deep thought. All in a moment, just as a personal fear of him had rushed over Charles, so did it now rush over Frank. His brain grew dizzy.