He kneeled down and thanked God he had not met Arthur Wardlaw in that dark lane.
Then he went home to his humble lodgings, and there buried himself; and from that day seldom went out, except to seek employment. He soon obtained it as a copyist.
Meantime the police were on his track, employed by a person with a gentle disposition, but a tenacity of purpose truly remarkable.
Great was Seaton's uneasiness when one day he saw Hexham at the foot of his stair; greater still, when the officer's quick eye caught sight of him, and his light foot ascended the stairs directly. He felt sure Hexham had heard of his lurking about General Rolleston's premises. However, he prepared to defend himself to the uttermost.
Hexham came into his room without ceremony, and looking mighty grim. "Well, my lad, so we have got you, after all."
"What is my crime now?" asked Seaton sullenly.
"James," said the officer, very solemnly, "it is an unheard-of crime this time. You have been running away from a pretty girl. Now that is a mistake at all times; but, when she is as beautiful as an angel, and rich enough to slip a flyer into Dick Hexham's hands, and lay him on your track, what _is_ the use? Letter for _you,_ my man."
Seaton took the letter, with a puzzled air. It was written in a clear but feminine hand, and slightly scented.