"You may trust me, Sir Francis."

"Yes, yes, I know--I know," said the old gentleman, wringing his hands, "I feel it! But, Clayton," he said, anxiously, "if any people should come with information in answer to the advertis.e.m.e.nts, keep them till I come back."

"I will, decidedly!" said Clayton; "but may I ask where you are going now?"

"Only to see if the bills are well posted; and, you know, I might see some one who had news,--it is possible."

"I did see one bill posted up," said Harry, but he did not mention the remark he had heard made.

"That's well, Clayton--that's well! and I hope and trust that this state of anxiety may soon be at an end."

The young man walked with Sir Francis to the door, and felt shocked to see the way in which he had altered during the past few days; then, returning to his seat, he began to think over the strange disappearance, recalling, too, that evening when he had determined to part from Lionel--their visit to the dog-fancier's, and the strange feelings that had been aroused; and now, troubled at heart and reluctant, he was pondering upon whether it was not his duty to place in the hands of the police the knowledge he possessed of Lionel's many visits to Decadia.

He could not quite reconcile himself to the task, for he knew that it must result in much unpleasantness to Janet; but it struck him suddenly that the behaviour of the deformed girl was strange, though it had not appeared so at the time. Could she know anything? Had the foolish young man been inveigled to some den, robbed, and murdered? and did the horrified aspect Janet had worn mean that she was in possession of the secret? He shuddered as such thoughts arose, and again and again asked himself what he should do, ending by coming to the determination that he would wait, at least until the following day, and then go to the house and warn them of what was about to be done. And yet, if anything were wrong, it would be putting them upon their guard. But their treatment of him seemed to demand that courtesy, and whatever was wrong, he felt that it would be hard for the innocent to be amongst the sufferers. He could not put them to unnecessary pain.

Then came again a cloud of doubt and suspicion, which hung over him till a couple of hours later, when Sir Francis Redgrave returned--pale, anxious, and tired--to look inquiringly at Harry, and receive for answer a shake of the head, the young man feeling the while that he was not acting openly with his elder, in keeping from him all he knew-- information which he was unable to decide whether or not he should impart.

In the evening, as they were seated together--Harry thoughtful and silent, and Sir Francis with his face turned from the light--the baronet spoke--

"I cannot suffer this inaction much longer," he said. "It is always the same answer from the police--'Leave it in our hands, sir; we are hard at work; though, so far, we have nothing to show.' They say that every-- every deadhouse has been searched; the men at the water-side have been told to be on the look-out; hospitals have been visited; everything possible done; but who can be satisfied? We must begin on fresh ground to-morrow, Clayton. What's that? Did some one knock?"

Mr Stiff entered to announce that there was a man below waiting to see some one respecting the reward.

Sir Francis started instantly to his feet.

"Show him up at once, Stiff!" he exclaimed; and then, not content to wait, in his anxiety he followed the landlord to the stairs, re-entering the room in a few minutes with the heavy-faced young fellow before introduced as Mr John Screwby.

"Now, my man, sit down; don't stand there!" exclaimed Sir Francis, thrusting a chair forward; "now, tell us quickly."

"Don't keer to sit down, thanky," said the fellow, surlily, taking a sidelong glance round the room, ending by fixing his eyes for a moment on the door, as if to make sure that there was a retreat open in case of need.

"Well, well!" exclaimed Sir Francis; "now tell us what you know, and why you have come. Did you see the advertis.e.m.e.nt, or one of those placards?"

"Bla'guards?" said the fellow, inquiringly.

"Yes, yes! the bills."

"Yes; I saw a bill--two 'underd pound reward--and I've come for that there two 'underd pound reward."

"But your information--what do you know?" broke in Harry.

The man turned and stared at him heavily.

"Ah! I didn't know you at first, without no hat on; but I knows you now. You was with him once when he came down our way. I seed you then, and I ain't forgot you. But, first of all, who's going to pay this here money? Is it you, or is it him?"

"I'll pay you--I'll pay you, my man!" exclaimed Sir Francis; "and what is your information?--what do you know?"

"What I know's worth two 'underd pound now," said the fellow, winking at Harry; "but if I tells it, then, praps, it won't be worth nothin' to me."

"You are dealing with a gentleman, my good fellow," said Harry, "and you need be under no apprehension."

"But how do I know as I shan't be done?" was the offensive reply.

"n.o.body don't trust me nothin'; and I don't see why I should trust n.o.body. I'm a plain-spoke sort of a chap, I am; and I allers says what's in my mind. So now, lookye here--you says as you'll give two 'underd pound to them as'll tell you where a tall young man's gone-- that's it, ain't it?"

Harry nodded.

"Werry good, then. I comes here, and I says, ''And over the stiff!'

'What for?' says you. ''Cos I knows wheer he is,' says I. 'So, now then,' I says, 'hand over the tin.'"

Without another word, Sir Francis went to a small writing-case, opened it, and took from a book a ready-signed cheque for the amount.

"Stop!" exclaimed Harry. "Excuse me, Sir Francis; but your anxiety overleaps your caution. How do we know that this man's information is worth having?"

"He says he knows where--where--you know what he says," said Sir Francis, piteously.

"Yes," said Harry; "but let him prove his words."

"What! are yer agoin' to run back from it, or are yer agoin' to hand over the stiff?" said the man, uneasily.

"When you have earned it," said Harry, almost fiercely. "Now, look here, my man, show us the value of your information, and restore this gentleman to his friends; and without any reference to such complicity as you may have had in the transaction, the two hundred pounds are yours."

"But lookye here," said the man, leaning towards him; "suppose as he's-- you know what?" and he whispered the last words.

"The money is yours all the same," said Harry, in the same tone.

But the man was apparently still far from satisfied, muttering, biting pieces out of his cap-lining, and spitting them upon the carpet, till a bright thought seemed to strike him, to which he gave birth.

"Lookye here, gents. Let's have the money posted fair for both sides.

I knows a genleman down our way as keeps a beer-shop as'd see fair, and make all square. Now, what do you say?"

What would have been said was arrested by a sudden start, or rather jump, on the part of Mr John Screwby, who, following the direction of Sir Francis' eyes, found that another person had entered the room, and taken a place at his elbow, where he had stood for some few moments listening to the conversation.

Volume 2, Chapter XXIV.

SCREWBY'S "TIP."

Mr John Screwby's face would have formed a worthy study for a painter; or, could some instantaneous photographer have secured his aspect, a _carte_ could have been produced that would have made the fortune of any speculator in heads of eminent men. For, as he started away, his jaw half dropped, his eyes staring, and fists clenched, he seemed, for the moment, turned into stone--a statue gazing at the quiet unmoved intruder upon the scene.

"How do, Jack?" said the new-comer, quietly, as he took a slight glance from the corners of his eyes at the informer.

"You're werry civil all 'twunst," said the fellow, recovering himself a little; "but you ain't got nothin' agen me!"

"Not I, Jack--at least, not yet," said the new-comer, smiling. "But what brings you here? Smelt the reward?"

The man stared, sniffed, rubbed his nose viciously upon his sleeve, and shuffled uneasily from foot to foot; but he did not answer.

"He professes to hold the required information," said Sir Francis; "and he is afraid that we shall not duly perform our part of the contract.

He is suspicious lest we should withhold part of the money--my friend here thinking that he ought first to prove the value of his tidings."

"Of course," said the new-comer, with a commendatory nod of the head at Clayton; "he knows what business is, evidently. Not though, that our friend Jack Screwby here would do anything but what was of the most honourable description. He's a gent who would scorn a mean action, and as to taking advantage of anybody, there, bless your heart, you might trust him with a baby unborn."