sketching in the
neighborhood, or as an old woman selling fruit, or what not--the wary
eye of Bishopriggs detected it. He left the pass-word unspoken; he
went his way on his errand; he was followed on suspicion; and he was
discovered to be only "a respectable person," charged with a message by
the landlord of the Harp of Scotland Inn!

To a man intrenched behind such precautions as these, the chance of
being detected might well be reckoned among the last of all the chances
that could possibly happen.

Discovery was, nevertheless, advancing on Bishopriggs from a quarter
which had not been included in his calculations. Anne Silvester was in
Perth; forewarned by the newspaper (as Sir Patrick had guessed) that the
letters offered to Mrs. Glenarm were the letters between Geoffrey and
herself, which she had lost at Craig Fernie, and bent on clearing up the
suspicion which pointed to Bishopriggs as the person who was trying to
turn the correspondence to pecuniary account. The inquiries made for
him, at Anne's request, as soon as she arrived in the town, openly
described his name, and his former position as headwaiter at Craig
Fernie--and thu s led easily to the discovery of him, in his publicly
avowed character of Thomas Pennyquick's devoted friend. Toward
evening, on the day after she reached Perth, the news came to Anne that
Bishopriggs was in service at the inn known as the Harp of Scotland.
The landlord of the hotel at which she was staying inquired whether he
should send a message for her. She answered, "No, I will take my message
myself. All I want is a person to show me the way to the inn."

Secluded in the solitude of the head-waiter's pantry, Bishopriggs sat
peacefully melting the sugar in his whisky-punch.

It was the hour of the evening at which a period of tranquillity
generally occurred before what was called "the night-business" of the
house began. Bishopriggs was accustomed to drink and meditate daily in
this interval of repose. He tasted the punch, and smiled contentedly as
he set down his glass. The prospect before him looked fairly enough. He
had outwitted the lawyers in the preliminary negotiations thus far. All
that was needful now was to wait till the terror of a public scandal
(sustained by occasional letters from her "Friend in the Dark") had
its due effect on Mrs. Glenarm, and hurried her into paying the
purchase-money for the correspondence with her own hand. "Let it breed
in the brain," he th