"It amounts to this:" retorted his youthful friend, stoutly, "that

I know nothing whatever about it. You may make out a case of strong

circumstantial evidence against me; but if the lady has been carried

off, I have had no hand in it."

Again Sir Norman was staggered by the frank, bold gaze and truthful

voice, but still the string was in a tangle somewhere.

"And where have you been ever since?" he began severely, and with the

air of a lawyer about to go into a rigid cross-examination.

"Searching for her," was the prompt reply.

"Where?"

"Through the streets; in the pest-houses, and at the plague-pit."

"How did you find out she lived here?"

"I did not find it out. When I became convinced she was in none of the

places I have mentioned, I gave up the search in despair, for to-night,

and was returning to his lordship to report my ill success."

"Why, then, were you standing in front of her house, gaping at it

with all the eyes in your head, as if it were the eighth wonder of the

world?"

"Monsieur has not the most courteous way of asking questions, that I

ever heard of; but I have no particular objection to answer him. It

struck me that, as Mr. Ormiston brought the lady up this way, and as

I saw you and he haunting this place so much to-night, I thought her

residence was somewhere here, and I paused to look at the house as I

went along. In fact, I intended to ask old sleepy-head, over there, for

further particulars, before I left the neighborhood, had not you, Sir

Norman, run bolt into me, and knocked every idea clean out of my head."

"And you are sure you are not Leoline?" said Sir Norman, suspiciously.

"To the best of my belief, Sir Norman, I am not," replied Hubert,

reflectively.

"Well, it is all very strange, and very aggravating," said Sir Norman,

sighing, and sheathing his sword. "She is gone, at all events; no doubt

about that--and if you have not carried her off, somebody else has."

"Perhaps she has gone herself," insinuated Hubert.

"Bah! Gone herself!" said Sir Norman, scornfully. "The idea is beneath

contempt: I tell you, Master Fine-feathers, the lady and I were to be

married bright and early to-morrow morning, and leave this disgusting

city for Devonshire. Do you suppose, then, she would run out in the

small hours of the morning, and go prancing about the streets, or

eloping with herself?"

"Why, of course, Sir Norman, I can't take it upon myself to answer

positively; but, to use the mildest phrase, I must say the lady seems

decidedly eccentric, and capable of doing very queer things. I hope,

however, you believe me; for I earnestly assure you, I never laid eyes

on her but that once."




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