“I will, sir; I hate impostures, I hate that which puts the garb of virtue or religion for base purposes.” “Ah, you have a right feeling of these things, young man,” said Learmont. “Execute this matter to my satisfaction, and I will entertain you as my secretary.” “When, sir, may I have an opportunity to prove my zeal?” “I think to-morrow. A week seldom passes but he comes here craving for alms. You shall see him and follow him. Track him like a blood-hound; it will be esteemed good service by me. ’Tis a mere trifle, but succeed in it, and I will make much of you.” “I shall do my utmost, sir. There may be difficulties that I wont not of; but I will strive to overcome this, and do you satisfactory service.” “Here’s money for you,” said Learmont, handing him a purse. “Amuse yourself to-day: I shall not require your services until to-morrow, but attend me then at an early hour—say nine.” “I will be punctual, sir.” “And secret?” “If you wish it.” “I do wish it. Hark ye, young sir, it is a rule in this house, that, if the slightest occurrence be made a subject of discourse out of it; if the lightest stray word be repeated elsewhere, he who so reports never enters its portals again.” “I will obey you, sir; I have no taste for babbling, and, indeed, in all this city I have not one that I can call an acquaintance.” “’Tis better so—’tis better so,” said Learmont; “you will do me good service. Farewell, young sir, until to-morrow.” “Then I may consider myself as so far honoured by you, sir, as to call myself your secretary?” said Albert Seyton, scarcely believing his good fortune. “You may—you may,” said Learmont. “We will talk more at large to-morrow.” He touched a bell as he spoke, and, when a servant appeared, he said,—“This gentleman has access to me. Good morning, young sir.” Albert bowed himself out, and scarcely recovered from his bewilderment till he found himself out of the house. Then, as he began to consider all that had passed in his interview with Learmont, Albert began more and more to dislike his service, and to suspect that his employer was not by any means the high-minded and charitable gentleman he would fain assume to be. The manner of Learmont was so much at variance with his words that Albert irresistibly came to the conclusion that there was something more than had been explained to him connected with the service he was asked to perform of watching to his home an unfortunate beggar. “Still,” he thought, “I may be mistaken, and blaming this man for faults of nature. He may be benevolent and just, as he reports himself to be, but still afflicted with as roguish and villanous a face as ever fell to the lot of mortal man. It will not do always to trust to appearances, and I should be foolish indeed to forsake an honourable employment for perhaps a mere chimera of the imagination. I can leave him when I please; and at least, while I remain, dear Ada, I will please myself with a belief that I am near thee.”