Sampson got hold of it and dived in the verbiage. He came up again with a discovery. In spite of its feebleness, verbosity, obscurity, and idiotic way of expressing itself, the Deed managed to convey to David and Mrs. Dodd a life interest in nine thousand five hundred pounds, with reversion to Julia and the children of the projected marriage. Sampson and Edward put their heads over this, and it puzzled them, “Why, man,” said Sampson, “if the puppy had signed this last night, he would be a beggar now.” “Ay,” said Edward, “but after all he did not sign it.” “Nay, but that was your fault, not his: the lad was keen to sign.” “That is true; and perhaps if we had pinned him to this, last night, he would not have dared insult my sister to-day.” Sampson changed the subject by inquiring suddenly which way he was gone. “Curse him, I don't know; and don't care. Go where he will I shall meet him again some day; and then--Edward spoke almost in a whisper, but a certain grind of his white teeth and flashing of his lion eyes made the incomplete sentence very expressive. “What ninnies you young men are,” said the Doctor; “even you, that I dub 'my fathom o' good sense:' just finish your denner and come with me.” “No, Doctor; I'm off my feed for once: if you had been upstairs and seen my poor sister! Hang the grub; it turns my stomach.” And he shoved his plate away, and leaned over the back of his chair. Sampson made him drink a glass of wine, and then they got up from the half-finished meal and went hurriedly to Alfred's lodgings, the Doctor, though sixty, rushing along with all the fire and buoyancy of early youth. They found the landlady surrounded by gossips curious as themselves, and longing to chatter, but no materials. The one new fact they elicited was that the vehicle was a White Lion fly, for she knew the young man by the cast in his eye. “Come away,” shouted the Doctor unceremoniously, and in two minutes they were in the yard of the White Lion. Sampson called the ostler: out came a hard-featured man, with a strong squint. Sampson concluded this was his man, and said roughly: “Where did you drive young Hardie this morning?” He seemed rather taken aback by this abrupt question; but reflected and slapped his thigh: “Why, that is the party from Mill Street.” “Yes.” “Druv him to Silverton station, sir: and wasn't long about it, either--gent was in a hurry.” “What train did he go by?” “Well, I don't know, sir; I left him at the station.” “Well, then, where did he take his ticket for? Where did he tell the porter he was going? Think now, and I'll give y' a sovereign.” The ostler scratched his head, and seemed at first inclined to guess for the sovereign, but at last said: “I should only be robbing you gents. Ye see, he paid the fly then and there, and gave me a crown: and I druv away directly.”