How can I find this man?"

"Wire to me. Put 'Send a doctor;' that will do as well as anything
else, and will sound well at the post-office. I'll see that he comes
down by the next train. You'd best meet him at the station, for the
chances are that he will be drunk."

"Bring him down," said Girdlestone. "You must be here yourself."

"Surely you can do without me?"

"No, no. We must stand or fall together."

"I've a good mind to throw the thing over," said Ezra, stopping in his
walk. "It sickens me."

"What! Go back now!" the old man cried vehemently. "No, no, that would
be too craven. We have everything in our favour, and all that we want
is a stout heart. Oh, my boy, my boy, on the one side of you are ruin,
dishonour, a sordid existence, and the scorn of your old companions; on
the other are success and riches and fame and all that can make life
pleasant. You know as well as I do that the girl's money would turn the
scale, and that all would then be well. Your whole future depends upon
her death. We have given her every chance. She laughed at your love.
It is time now to show her your hate."

"That is true enough," Ezra said, walking on. "There is no reason why I
should pity her. I've put my hand to the plough, and I shall go on.
I seem to be getting into your infernal knack of scripture quoting."

"There is a brave, good lad," cried his father. "It would not do to
draw back now."

"You will find Rebecca useful," the young man said, "You may trust her
entirely."

"You did well to send her. Have they asked for me much?"

"Yes. I have told them all the same story--nervous exhaustion, and
doctor's orders that you were not to be disturbed by any business
letters. The only man who seemed to smell a rat was that young
Dimsdale."

"Ah!" cried the old man, with a chuckle; "of course he would be
surprised at our disappearance."

"He looks like a madman; asked me where you had gone, and when I
answered him as I had the others, stormed out that he had a right to
know, and that he would know. His blood was up, and there was nearly
being a pretty scene before the clerks. He follows me home every
evening to Eccleston Square, and waits outside half the night through to
see that I do not leave the house."

"Does he, though?"

"Yes; he came after me to the station to-day. He had a cravat round his
mouth and an ulster, but I could see that it was he. I took a ticket
for Colchester. He took one