"I am, sir," she replied with asperity. "Who are you, may I inquire?" "I am a stranger in the town, madam," he said, speaking with the greatest deference. "Is it not to this place that the young person was taken who was found in Mr. Gerald Paget's house last night?" "It is, and my business is to expose her. Have you any objections?" "Not the slightest, madam. I think you are performing a Christian duty." "I am not obliged to you, sir," said Mrs. Seaton, haughtily. "I am in the habit of doing my duty without being prompted. The creature who is harbored there shall be turned adrift before many hours are over. She is a disgrace to the neighborhood, and I will see that she is hunted out of it." "Madam," said Leonard, "the whole town will be in your debt if you rid it of the person in question, and I myself shall be deeply grateful to you." He raised his hat and walked away, thinking, with a blithe laugh, "The devil _is_ on my side and I have the twelve hundred pounds safe in my pocket." After this agreeable reflection he idled an hour, singing little snatches of song to himself, and then returned to the hotel with a plausible tale which he had invented to put Gerald off the scent till the following day, by which time he hoped that Emilia would be gone and all traces of her lost. He was a keen judge of human nature, and knew what effect Mrs. Seaton's calumnies would have upon a young and sensitive girl. Her first impulse would be to fly from a spot where she was known--to hide her face anywhere so long as it was among strangers. With a strong, determined woman it would be different; she would brazen it out, and, give back scorn for scorn, and although she could not hope for victory she would have the satisfaction of saying bitter things to her revilers. Emilia was not this kind of woman; Gerald's descriptions of her had enabled Leonard to gauge her correctly, and to forecast how she would act in the face of an accusation so vile and degrading. Believing firmly in the judgments he formed of matters in which he was personally concerned, he had, therefore, reason to congratulate himself upon the course which events had taken, and he skipped up the steps of the hotel with a mind at ease. Its balance, however, was disturbed when he was informed that Gerald was gone. "Did he say where he was going?" he asked. "No, sir," was the reply. "Nor when he would return?" "No, sir." "But he left a message for me?" "No, sir." "Can you tell me which direction he took?" "No, sir."