Harry Clayton hurriedly made his way back to the chambers, where he
found Sir Francis hastily walking up and down the room.
"Ah! you are back!" he said, impatiently. "I fell asleep for quite two
hours, and then I should have come after you, only the address the man
gave had quite glided from my memory. It seems, Clayton, as if my head
were so full of this one trouble that it will hold nothing else. But
what news?"
"None, sir," said Harry, quietly. "It was, thank Heaven, a mistake."
"I don't know, Clayton--I don't know. This suspense is almost more
agonising than the knowledge that my poor boy had really been found
dead. I feel, at times, that I cannot bear it much longer. You saw
this--this--"
"Yes, sir; I saw the body of some poor creature lying in a boat-shed;
but it was not the one we seek."
"Are you sure? You were not mistaken? You really did look to make
sure?"
Harry smiled faintly, as he thought of his irresolution, and the way in
which he had held back; and then he answered, calmly--
"Yes, Sir Francis; I made perfectly sure."
It was pitiful to see the old man's trouble--the constant agitation, the
anxious gaze, the nervous restless motion of his hands--as he turned
over some communication--some letter professing to give information
respecting a young man in some far-off part of England or Wales--every
despatch exciting hopes that were soon found to be perfectly baseless.
At length, after much persuasion, Sir Francis agreed to lie down, on the
condition that Clayton would stay, ready to answer any communication
that might arrive.
"You know, my dear boy, these things always will arrive when we are
absent," he said, pitifully.
"Trust me, Sir Francis," was the reply. "I am indeed doing everything
possible to lead to a discovery."
The old man did not trust himself to speak; but wringing Harry's hand,
he despairingly left the room.
In the meantime, Harry's sudden departure from before the boat-shed, far
down on the muddy banks of the Thames, had not been allowed to pass
uncanvassed by the two rough men, the seekers for such ghastly waifs and
strays.
"Suv'rin," said the one who had acted as guide, in answer to a query,
"Air you sure as there worn't two?"
"I am," said the other, with a wave of his pipe-stem. "Why, if there'd
been two, wouldn't you have heard 'em chink when he stuffed 'em in my
hand?" said Sam, not at all relying upon the known integrity of his
character for refutation of this sideways charge that he had kept back
portion of the reward. "There's what he give me," he continued, holding
out a sovereign in his horny palm; "and we'll get it changed as soon as
you like."
"Yes," said the other, speaking indistinctly, on account of the pipe
between his lips; "we'll get it changed afore we go on to the station."
As he spoke, he carefully chained and padlocked the door of the shed,
smoking coolly enough the while.
"I ain't seen anything else up--no notice, nor nothing," said Sam; "and
we mustn't wait no longer before givin' information, or there'll be a
row."
"No, there ain't nothing up," said the other, pocketing his key, and
removing his pipe to expectorate. "I've been looking, and there's ony a
bill up about a woman. He was precious pertickler. Why wouldn't this
one do? All they wanted was some one to give a decent Christun buryin'
to; and this here poor chap would ha' done as well as any other one, to
ease their minds with."
"But you see he's got black hair, and on the bill it says fair curly
hair," said Sam. "I was half afeard it wouldn't do."
"Yah! what does the colour of the hair matter?" grumbled the other. "I
mean to say its reg'larly swindlin' us out of two 'undred pound. He'd
ha' done as well as any other; and they might have 'ad their inkwist,
and sat on him, and sworn to him, and said he was found drowned; and
there'd ha' been a comfortable feelin', and they needn't ha' troubled
themselves no more."
"Well, let's go and give notice; and then we'll change this here, and
have a wet--eh, lad?"
"Ah! may as well," said the other, removing his pipe to draw an
anticipatory hand across his mouth. "Let's see--tall and fair--curly
hair--eh, Sam? Well, perhaps something may turn up yet time enough for
us. That 'ere would have done safe enough if his hair had been right
colour. Better luck next time--eh, lad?"
"Ah! dessay," said Sam, forcing the sovereign right to the bottom of his
pocket. "Two 'undred pound reward! We ought to have had it old man;
but who knows but what something mayn't turn up yet?"
Volume 3, Chapter VII.