He turned his eyes towards a violin hung upon the wall; but when Janet eagerly reached it down, and Canau tried to raise the bow, his bruised muscles refused to act, and he shook his head. "Had you not better try and sleep?" said Harry to the injured man, who seemed momentarily to grow more feverish and excited. "Sleep!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, "sleep now? Shall I not soon sleep without waking? No, no--no, no! Look here! you are a gentleman--you have feelings. Listen! Years ago--many now--I fled from my country. I was sought for; I was called `traitor!' But why? mon Dieu, why? Because I loved my rightful monarch, and would have seen him on the throne. But might is right, even as you say it here; and I fled to beggary and wretchedness amongst these poor--I, a gentleman--to drink at last to drown my misery, till I tried to live by my violin, and then I took to that poor child, saved her from misery and death, and now she loves me." Worn out at last, and half delirious with the fever from the injuries he had received, the Frenchman at last dozed off, when Harry rose to leave, wondering whether, after all, Canau knew what had become of Lionel, and hopeful that, if he did, his prostrate and weak state would offer opportunities for arriving at the truth. As Harry reached the bottom, D. Wragg, pipe in hand, made his appearance, craning his neck, and thrusting his face forward in disagreeable proximity to that of his visitor, as in answer to Harry's "Good night," he exclaimed-- "I know!" "Know what," said Harry, sharply, his thoughts instantly reverting to Lionel, and the hope that if D. Wragg knew anything, now in his state of semi-intoxication, he might divulge some clue to the mystery that had troubled them for so long. But if D. Wragg possessed a secret, it seemed to be one from which he felt in no haste to part; for, with drunken solemnity, he merely shook his head a great many times, and then drew back softly into his shop, closing the door after him; but only to open it again a few inches, so as to allow the passage of his head as he muttered gruffly, throwing the words, as it were, at his visitor-- "Never mind!" Volume 3, Chapter XIV. A QUESTION. "Been here five minutes, sir," said Sergeant Falkner, as Harry Clayton entered the passage of the Regent Street house. "Yes, five minutes exactly," he continued, referring to his watch. "I'd allowed myself ten minutes to wait and see if Sir Richard woke up; and if he had not at the end of that time, I was off. But as you've come, sir, that'll do as well, for I promised him I'd look in and state progress every day." "What news have you, then?" said Harry. "I don't know as I have any as yet, sir." Harry gave a fresh gesture of impatience.