With the morning, Weymouth learnt the fate of the poor convict--it was only one--who had attempted to escape, after whom the guns were let loose like so many blood-hounds. He was retaken. It was a man who had attempted escape once before, and unsuccessfully. "The plans were badly laid," calmly remarked Mrs. Andinnian. She did not now insist upon Karl's quitting her: he knew all; and, though he could not approve, she knew he would not do anything to frustrate. The subject was not again brought up: Mrs. Andinnian avoided it: and some more days wore on. Karl fancied, but could not be sure, that the other attempt at escape caused the action of this to be delayed: perhaps entirely abandoned. His mother and Ann Hopley seemed to be always in secret conference, and twice again there came stealthily to the house at night the same warder, or the man whom Karl had taken for one. CHAPTER VII. At the Charing-Cross Hotel. On All Saints' Day, the first of November--and it was as bright a day for the festival as the saints, whether in that world or this, could wish--Captain Andinnian took leave of his mother, and went to London. His chief business there was to transact some business with the family lawyers, Plunkett and Plunkett. Their chambers were within the precincts of the Temple, and for convenience' sake he took up his quarters at the Charing Cross Hotel. In the course of the afternoon, as he was turning out of Essex Street, having come through the little court from Plunkett and Plunkett's, he ran against a gentleman passing down the Strand. "I beg your pardon," Karl was beginning, and then became suddenly silent. It was Colonel Cleeve. But, instead of passing on, as Karl might have expected him to do, the Colonel stopped and shook him cordially by the hand. To pass him would have jarred on every kindly instinct of Colonel Cleeve's nature. As to the affair with his daughter, he attached no importance to it now, believing it had made no permanent impression on Lucy, and had himself three-parts forgotten it. "You have sold out, Captain Andinnian. I--I have been so very sorry for the sad causes that induced the step. Believe me, you have had all along my very best sympathy." Karl hardly knew what he answered. A few words of murmured thanks; nothing more. "You are not well," returned the Colonel, regarding the slender form that looked thinner than of yore, very thin in its black attire. "This has told upon you." "It has; very much. There are some trials that can never be made light in this life," Karl continued, speaking the thoughts that were ever uppermost in his mind. "This is one of them. I thank you for your sympathy, Colonel Cleeve." "And that's true, unfortunately," cried the Colonel, warmly, in answer. "You don't know how you are regretted at Winchester by your brother officers."