When Hicks gave the letter to Hemming, that self-possessed gentleman and the doctor were smoking, with their chairs pushed back, and Smith was eating muffins with surprising rapidity.
"A letter to you?" queried Scott. "Then they must know of Tetson's escape."
"Possibly," said Hemming, and opened the paper. At first he smiled, as he read. Then, of a sudden, he wrinkled his brows, stared, and looked up.
"What is that stranger's name?" he asked, sharply.
"Cuddlehead, sir," replied Smith, promptly.
"I doubt it," retorted the other, "for I have reason enough to remember this handwriting."
To explain the remark, he opened the sheet on the table, and pointed to where a line had been crossed through and rewritten in a chirography very different to that of the body of the manuscript.
"He seemed harmless enough, whoever he is, from what I heard of him," remarked Hicks.
"He's a sneaking cad," said Hemming, hotly, "and has more devil in him than you could find in the whole of that rotten battalion put together. His real name is Penthouse,—and, by gad, no wonder he kept out of my sight!"
"May we read the letter?" asked the doctor, calmly.