Do you know the house?"

"Perfectly well."

"We will go there to-morrow. Let that content you for tonight. Get to
rest."

I gave him my hand. He took it mechanically--absorbed in his own
thoughts.

"Didn't I say something foolish down stairs?" he asked, putting the
question suddenly, with an odd suspicious look at me.

"You were quite worn out," I said, consolingly. "Nobody noticed it."

"You are sure of that?"

"Quite sure. Good night."

I left the room, feeling much as I had felt at the station at Marseilles.
I was not satisfied with him. I thought his conduct very strange.

On returning to the parlor, I found nobody there but Mrs. Finch. The
rector's offended dignity had left the rector no honorable alternative
but to withdraw to his own room. I ate my supper in peace; and Mrs. Finch
(rocking the cradle with her foot) chattered away to her heart's content
about all that had happened in my absence.

I gathered, here and there, from what she said, some particulars worth
mentioning.

The new disagreement between Mr. Finch and Miss Batchford, which had
driven the old lady out of the rectory almost as soon as she set foot in
it, had originated in Mr. Finch's exasperating composure when he heard of
his daughter's flight. He supposed, of course, that Lucilla had left
Ramsgate with Oscar--whose signed settlements on his future wife were
safe in Mr. Finch's possession. It was only when Miss Batchford had
communicated with Grosse, and when the discovery followed which revealed
the penniless Nugent as the man who had eloped with Lucilla, that Mr.
Finch's parental anxiety (seeing no money likely to come of it) became
roused to action. He, Miss Batchford, and Grosse, had all, in their
various ways, done their best to trace the fugitives--and had all alike
been baffled by the impossibility of discovering the residence of the
lady mentioned in Nugent's letter. My telegram, announcing my return to
England with Oscar, had inspired them with their first hope of being able
to interfere, and stop the marriage before it was too late.

The occurrence of Grosse's name in Mrs. Finch's rambling narrative,
recalled to my memory what the rector had told me at the garden gate. I
had not yet received the letter which the German had sent to wait my
arrival at Dimchurch. After a short search, we found it--where it had
been contemptuously thrown by Mr. Finch--on the parlor table.

A few lines comprised the whole letter. Grosse i