“Monsieur!” exclaimed the boy, raising his hands with an earnestness there was no mistaking, “I do assure you, upon my honor, that I know nothing of the lady whatever; that I have not found her; that I have never set eyes on her since the earl saved her from the river.” The earnest tone of truth would, in itself, almost have convinced Sir Norman, but it was not that, that made him drop his sword so suddenly. The pale, startled face; the dark, solemn eyes, were so exactly like Leoline's, that they thrilled him through and through, and almost made him believe, for a moment, he was talking to Leoline herself. “Are you--are you sure you are not Leoline?” he inquired, almost convinced, for an instant, by the marvelous resemblance, that it was really so. “I? Positively, Sir Norman, I cannot understand this at all, unless you wish to enjoy yourself at my expense.” “Look here, Master Hubert!” said Sir Norman with a sudden change of look and tone. “If you do not understand, I shall just tell you in a word or two how matters are, and then let me hear you clear yourself. You know the lady we were talking about, that Lord Rochester picked up afloat, and sent you in search of?” “Yes--yes.” “Well,” went on Sir Norman, with a sort of grim stoicism. “After leaving you, I started on a little expedition of my own, two miles from the city, from which expedition I returned ten minutes ago. When I left, the lady was secure and safe in this house; when I came back, she was gone. You were in search of her--had told me yourself you were determined on finding her, and having her carried off; and now, my youthful friend, put this and that together,” with a momentary returning glare, “and see what it amounts to!” “It amounts to this:” retorted his youthful friend, stoutly, “that I know nothing whatever about it. You may make out a case of strong circumstantial evidence against me; but if the lady has been carried off, I have had no hand in it.” Again Sir Norman was staggered by the frank, bold gaze and truthful voice, but still the string was in a tangle somewhere. “And where have you been ever since?” he began severely, and with the air of a lawyer about to go into a rigid cross-examination. “Searching for her,” was the prompt reply. “Where?” “Through the streets; in the pest-houses, and at the plague-pit.” “How did you find out she lived here?” “I did not find it out. When I became convinced she was in none of the places I have mentioned, I gave up the search in despair, for to-night, and was returning to his lordship to report my ill success.” “Why, then, were you standing in front of her house, gaping at it with all the eyes in your head, as if it were the eighth wonder of the world?”