"Lost, lost!" muttered Joad, as he shuffled near her--"and after all my care. What am I to do now? What--what--what?" "Is anything wrong, Mr. Joad?" The man paused before Dora with a dazed look, and suddenly cooled down in the most surprising manner. Knowing the dangerous position in which he was placed by the loss of the manuscript, he saw the necessity for dissimulation. His rage gave place to smiles, his furious gestures to fawning. "No, Miss Dora; there is nothing wrong. I have lost a precious book, that is all. But I know who took it," he broke out with renewed fury. Dora felt nervous, and for the moment she thought that he suspected her. But the next moment--still talking of the manuscript under the flimsy disguise of a book--his words reassured her. "Oh yes," he repeated; "I know who stole it, but I'll be revenged;" then he shook his fists in the air, as though invoking a curse on someone, and returned to the Red House. When Dora reached her own room, she took out the manuscript. It was a lengthy effusion, evidently carefully prepared, and certainly clearly written. With a thrill of excitement the girl sat down to read the story, and learn from it, if possible, the motive of Joad in becoming a midnight assassin. Before she had read two lines, Meg knocked at her door. Dora hid away the precious paper hastily in her wardrobe, and called on Meg to enter. "Dinner is up, miss," said the stout countrywoman, "and Mr. Joad waits. He don't look well, Miss Dora. Sheets ain't nothing to face of he." "Is he in a bad temper, Meg?" "Lordy, no, miss! He ghastly pale and quiet like." Meg's report proved to be true. Joad's rage had died out into a subdued nervousness, and his red face had paled to a yellowish hue. He said little and ate little, but Dora noticed that he drank more than his ordinary allowance of whisky-and-water. Every now and then he cast a furtive glance round the room, as though waiting anxiously for the unexpected to happen. His conduct reminded Dora of the late Mr. Edermont's behaviour in church during the Litany, and there was no doubt in her mind as to Joad's feelings. He had received a shock, and in consequence thereof he was thoroughly frightened. Towards the end of the meal he grew more composed, under the influence of the spirits and water, and it was then that he abruptly informed Dora that he was going into Canterbury. "You are going into Canterbury," she echoed, fairly astonished, "this afternoon?" "Yes; I have not been in the town for months. But I wish to consult--a lawyer." "About the loss of your book, I suppose?" Joad raised his heavy eyes, and sent a piercing glance in her direction. "Yes," he said, in a quiet tone, "I wish to consult about that loss." "Will you see Mr. Carver?" "On the whole," said Joad, with great deliberation, "I think I shall see Mr. Carver. He knows much; he may as well know more." "What do you mean?" asked Dora, startled by the significance of this speech.