“Paul heard some strange things, concerning Mr. Tallant’s son, and--and Mr. Hammerton, who resided near us. I was anxious, if possible, to learn the truth of the rumours, which were to their discredit. In truth, it seemed as though the good name and reputation of Mr. Hammerton were likely to be lost to him, as if he were being gradually led into the society of disreputable people and deceived, and----” Amy was very much at fault in her attempted explanation; she felt that she hardly knew why she had interfered, now that she endeavoured to justify it. Curiosity, excited by Paul’s letters, had been her first impulse, and then her romantic love for Hammerton had shown her the danger into which he was drifting. Her hero a gambler, the man whom she held up in her imagination as the best and the truest and purest and noblest, an associate of gamblers and speculators and drunkards; the idea had tortured her to an extent quite sufficient to add eloquent point to her inquiries concerning Hammerton and Tallant, which had at first puzzled Paul, and then enlisted him in her service as Mr. Hammerton’s good angel. Could she explain this, with the eyes of her father and Mr. Williamson upon her? She succeeded in leaving on the mind of the latter gentlemen the impression that she had had a mind to pry into the private doings of these gentlemen from idle girlish curiosity, and that Paul had been very foolish in giving way to her; but Mr. Somerton saw a little further than this into the secret of his daughter. “Well, we must not stay chatting here,” said Mr. Williamson at length; “I will go and apply for a warrant against this Mr. Gibbs for conspiracy; and with regard to your husband, Mrs. Dibble, you had better take no steps at present to discover him.” Mrs. Dibble, who had been mechanically lighting the fire and boiling the kettle all this time, turned round and requested Mr. Williamson to attend to his own business, and promised the whole company that she would attend to hers. Upon this Mr. Williamson declined the lady’s invitation to breakfast, and went away in company with Paul, whom Mr. Somerton and his daughter promised to meet at Bow Street at twelve o’clock, when Paul’s bail expired. A warrant for conspiracy was granted against Mr. Shuffleton Gibbs; but nearly an hour before a detective from Scotland Yard tapped at Mr. Gibbs’ door to execute the warrant, his landlady had slipped inside her lodger’s bedroom the rough-looking note of Dibble’s. It happened that Mr. Gibbs rose a little earlier that morning, or he would not have received the warning in time to have taken measures for his own safety. As it was, he no sooner received the letter than he commenced to prepare for flight.