"Well, go on? What then?"
"It was about nine o'clock, in a close carriage, not far from the Common." That, by the way, was as near to Mr. Bright's house as Walter thought proper to locate the affair.
Mr. Bright exchanged glances with the dark man, who merely nodded, but said never a word.
Thinking his examination was over, Walter plucked up the courage to say of his own accord, "I ran after the carriage as tight as I could; but you see, sir, the driver was lashing his horses all the way, so I couldn't keep up with it; and when I got to the depot the train was just starting."
"Pray, what took you to that neighborhood at that hour?" the silent man demanded so suddenly that the sound of his voice startled Walter.
If ever conscious guilt showed itself in a face, it now did in Walter's. He turned as red as a peony. Mr. Bright frowned, while the dark-skinned man smiled a knowing little smile.
"Why, nothing in particular, sir. I was only taking a little stroll about town, before going home," Walter replied, a word at a time.
"Yet your boarding place is at the other end of the city, is it not?" pursued Mr. Bright.