Mr. Effingham strode down the avenue, switching his stick and muttering: "Done! sold! swindled!" he exclaimed; "regularly roped,--that's what I am! It was lucky I kept my face before the Bart., or I should never have collared the cheque; but that's all right. So far he thinks it was my doin', and forked out accordin'. That's the only bright part of it. To think that a yellow-faced meek-lookin' thing like that should have taken me in to that toon! What can her game be? To get clear of the lot of us?--that's it! Pretendin' to be all square with me, and then cuttin' and runnin' and shakin' it all off! Oh, a deep 'un, a regular deep 'un! Now what's my game? After her as hard as I can. Where will she make for? London, I should think,--try hidin' somewhere. Ah! if she does that, I'll ferret her out. It'll be a quiet place that I don't hunt her up in, with the means I have for workin' a search. Here's two skivs to the good from the Bart. I'll meet the dog-cart and get down to Torquay, and go up at once by the express. Hallo! gate, there!" "Why, you are in a hurry, sir!" said the old portress, coming out; "mist as pressed as the young woman as knocked me up at day-dawn this morning." "Ah! what was that?" said Mr. Effingham stopping short. "I would have told you this morning when you came in; but you were so short and snappish!" said the old lady. "She came down wi' a little passel in her hand, and knocked at my door and ast for the key. And I got up to let her out, and there were a fly outside--Mullins's fly, and young Mullins to drive; and she got in, and off they went." "Ay, ay where does Mullins live?" "Just close by Mitford Arms. His father were wi' my father--" "Yes, yes; thank you! all right! goodbye!" and Mr. Effingham rushed off up the by-lane to where he knew the dog-cart was waiting. CHAPTER XXI. COLONEL ALSAGER'S COUNSEL. When Laurence Alsager awoke the morning after Miss Gillespie's piano-performance, his thoughts immediately turned to the mysterious note which he had received on the previous evening, and he stretched out his hand and took it from the dressing-table, where he had placed it just before dropping off to sleep. He read it again and again, and each perusal strengthened his belief. It was written by Miss Gillespie--of that he had little doubt--and was intended to convey a warning of proximate danger to Lady Mitford, and counsel to him to avert this danger if possible, by remaining at Redmoor. It seemed further to imply that some protection which had hitherto been extended over her would necessarily be withdrawn, and that his presence was consequently more than ever needful. At this conclusion Laurence arrived; it was but a lame and impotent one, after all, and he determined to seek the solution at an interview with Miss Gillespie as soon as possible.