The wild, imploring accents quite startled Lord Hartledon.
"You need not fear," he said, after a pause. "I do not care to see Gordon hanged either; and though I want to trace his present abode—if it can be traced—it is not with a view to injuring him."
"But we don't know his abode, my lord," she rejoined in faint remonstrance.
"I did not suppose you knew it. All I want to ask your husband is, to give me a description of Gordon. I wish to see if it tallies with—with some one I once knew," he cautiously concluded. "Perhaps you remember what the man was said to be like?"
She put her fingers up to her brow, leaning her elbow on the table. He could not help observing how the hand shook.
"I think it was said that he had red hair," she began, after a long pause; "and was—tall, was it?—either tall or short; one of the two. And his eyes—his eyes were dark eyes, either brown or blue."
Lord Hartledon could not avoid a smile. "That's no description at all."
"My memory is not over-good, my lord: I read his description in the handbills offering the reward; and that's some time ago now."
"The handbills!—to be sure!" interrupted Lord Hartledon, springing from his perch. "I never thought of them; they'll give me the best description possible. Do you know where—"
The conference was interrupted by the clerk. He came in with a large book in his hand; and a large dog, which belonged to a friend, and had followed him home. For a minute or two there was only commotion, for the dog was leaping and making friends with every one. Lord Hartledon then said a few words of explanation, and the quiet demeanour of the clerk, as he calmly listened, was in marked contrast to his wife's nervous agitation.