Mr. Lacy's first care, upon their return to the city, was to dispatch a note to Ida. It merely announced the success of their expedition; the means adopted to secure it, she gathered from Charley. They had gone together, first to Lynn's then to Pemberton's lodgings, when Charley had been informed of the projected meeting. They were reported "not at home." They then hit upon the unpromising expedient of going to every hackstand in the city, to ascertain, if possible, at what time the party was to start in the morning, and its route. They failed, in two or three cases to arouse the keepers; and from others received unimportant and early replies. Charley had just asked, "Do you mean to give it up?" and been answered by a firm "Never!" when a negro bustled by them. Morton seized him by the shoulder, and led him to an apothecary's lamp. "I thought so!" "I've got a pass. Let me go!" said the fellow, struggling. "Not until I know where you have been. You are Mr. Talbot's servant--you may gain something, and shall not lose, by answering me civilly. What were you sent for!" By smooth and harsh words, he was brought to acknowledge that his "young master" having had company all the evening, had forgotten, until late, to send him to a livery-stable to engage a carriage for five o'clock next morning. "Who is with him, besides Mr. Pemberton?" inquired Mr. Lacy. "Mr. Watson, sir." "How far are they to go, after crossing the river?" "Lor! Massa! how you reckon I know?" "No trifling, sir! If I wanted to create mischief, you have said enough. Tell me everything, or I will go at once to your master!" The man instantly named their destination, which his master had let slip in his hearing; and added that they were "fixing pistols." The information was corroborated by a call upon the liveryman, and they acted upon it. The delay, which was so near being fatal, arose from their ignorance of a newer and shorter road than they chose. "How Lacy guessed their intentions, I cannot imagine," said Charley. "He would not entrust to me the name of his informant; and Lynn is as much in the dark. He brought your letter to the door after he was sure you had retired and mine was left upon his desk. But Lacy is discreet from principle, not from caprice." "He is," said Ida with heightened color. "If any stigma attaches to the informer, it must rest upon me." "Just like him, noble-hearted and faithful!" exclaimed Charley, when her story was ended. "Shall you tell Lynn?" "Yes--if only to show him how his friends love him. He may view it as a breach of confidence, but I had rather he should reproach me, than suspect the innocent."