"And do you really go to America for that purpose?" repeated Hoskins. "Certainly--I consider it my duty," replied Neville. "Nay, it may be said that I went for this design, for I sailed by the John Adams--which has been driven back by contrary winds. I disembarked only half an hour ago." "That beats all!" cried Hoskins. "Why, do you know--I have more than half a mind to tell you--you had really sailed for America for the purpose of bringing Osborne over, and you now intend taking a passage on board the Owyhee?" "Certainly; why not? What is there so strange in all this? I sought you for the sake of making inquiries that might guide me in my search for Osborne, who wishes to conceal himself." "You could not have addressed a better man--by the Lord! He's a craven, and deserves no better; so I'll just let out, Mr. Neville, that Osborne sneaked out of this room at the instant he saw you come into it." Neville had seen Hoskins's companion disappear--he thought it but an act of civility--the strangeness of this coincidence, the course of events at once so contrary and so propitious, staggered him for a moment. "They tell of the rattlesnake," said Hoskins, "that, fixing its eye on its prey, a bird becomes fascinated, and wheels round nearer and nearer till he falls into the jaws of the enemy--poor Osborne! He wishes himself on the shores of the Pacific, to be far enough off--and here he is, and turn and twist as he will, it will end by the law grasping him by the shoulder, and dragging him to the very noose he so fears to slip into; not that he helped to murder the lady--you do not believe that, Mr. Neville?--you do not think that the lady was murdered?" "I would stake my existence that she was not," said Neville; "were it otherwise, I should have no desire to see Osborne, or to interfere. Strange, most strange it is, that he should be here; and he is come, you think, with no design of offering his testimony to clear Mr. Falkner?" "He is come under a feigned name," replied Hoskins; "under pretence that he was sent by Osborne--he has brought a quantity of attested declarations, and hopes to serve Mr. Falkner without endangering his own neck." It was even so. Osborne was a weak man, good-hearted, as it is called, but a craven. No sooner did he hear that Hillary had sailed for Europe, and that he might consider himself safe, than he grew uneasy on another score. He had still possession, even while he had denied all knowledge of the writer, of Falkner's letter, representing to him the necessity of coming over. It was simply but forcibly written; every word went to the heart of Osborne, now that he believed that his conduct would make over his generous benefactor to an ignominious end. This idea haunted him like an unlaid ghost; yet, if they hanged Falkner, what should prevent them from hanging him too? suspicion must fall equally on both.