"Mr. Burtenshaw's out, sir," she replied, stooping to pick up the "cap,"--a piece of bordered net the size of a five-shilling piece. "He left word that he should be back at five o'clock." "If I were a detective officer, my servants should wear caps on their heads," thought Karl, as he turned away, and went to get some dinner. The church clocks were striking five when he was at the door again. Mr. Burtenshaw was at home; and Karl, declining to give his name, was shown to an upstairs room. A little man of middle age, with a sallow face and rather nice grey eyes, was standing by a table covered with papers. Karl bowed, and handed him Mr. George Plunkett's note. "Take a seat, sir, pray, while I read it," said Mr. Burtenshaw, instinctively recognising Karl for a gentleman and a noble one. And Karl sat down near the window. "Very good; I am at your service, sir," said the detective, drawing a chair opposite Karl's. "What can I do for you?" With less hesitation than he had shown to Mr. George Plunkett, for he was gathering courage now the ice was broken, Karl frankly stated why he had come, and what he wanted--some information about the criminal, Philip Salter. "Do you know much about the case?" continued Karl--for Mr. Burtenshaw had made no immediate reply, but sat in silence. "I believe I know all about it, sir. I was wondering whether you had unearthed him and were come to claim the reward." "The reward! Is there an offered reward out against him?" "Five hundred pounds. It was offered after he had made his desperate escape, and it stands still." "He has not been retaken then?" "No, never. We have failed in his case, I am ashamed to say. What particulars are they, sir, that you wish to hear of him? Those connected with his frauds and forgeries?" "Not those: I have read of them in some of the old papers. I want to know where he is supposed to be; and what he is like in person." "Our belief is that he is still in Great Britain; strange though it may sound to you to hear me say it. England or Scotland. After that escapade, all the ports were so thoroughly guarded and watched, that I don't think he could have escaped. We have a more especial reason, which I do not speak of, for suspecting that he is here still: at least that he was three months ago." "There are a hundred places in England where he may be hiding," spoke Karl impulsively. "Where he may be living as an ordinary individual, just like the individuals about him." "Exactly so." "Living openly as may be said, but cautiously. Perhaps wearing a disguise." "No doubt of the disguise. False hair and whiskers, spectacles, and all that." Karl remembered Mr. Smith's green spectacles. His hair might not be his own: he wished he had taken better note of it. "And in person? What is he like?" "That I cannot tell you," said Mr. Burtenshaw. "I never saw him. Some of us know him well. Grimley especially does." "Who is Grimley?"