. The day after is the
seventh day since we sent the letter to Zurich. On the seventh day
decline to go out walking as before, from dread of the annoyance of
meeting me again. Grumble about the smallness of the place; complain
of your health; wish you had never come to Aldborough, and never made
acquaintances with the Bygraves; and when you have well worried Mrs.
Lecount with your discontent, ask her on a sudden if she can't suggest a
change for the better. If you put that question to her naturally, do you
think she can be depended on to answer it?"

"She won't want to be questioned at all," replied Noel Vanstone,
irritably. "I have only got to say I am tired of Aldborough; and, if
she believes me--which she won't; I'm quite positive, Mr. Bygrave, she
won't!--she will have her suggestion ready before I can ask for it."

"Ay! ay!" said the captain eagerly. "There is some place, then, that
Mrs. Lecount wants to go to this autumn?"

"She wants to go there (hang her!) every autumn."

"To go where?"

"To Admiral Bartram's--you don't know him, do you?--at St.
Crux-in-the-Marsh."

"Don't lose your patience, Mr. Vanstone! What you are now telling me
is of the most vital importance to the object we ha ve in view. Who is
Admiral Bartram?"

"An old friend of my father's. My father laid him under obligations--my
father lent him money when they were both young men. I am like one of
the family at St. Crux; my room is always kept ready for me. Not that
there's any family at the admiral's except his nephew, George Bartram.
George is my cousin; I'm as intimate with George as my father was with
the admiral; and I've been sharper than my father, for I haven't lent
my friend any money. Lecount always makes a show of liking George--I
believe to annoy me. She likes the admiral, too; he flatters her vanity.
He always invites her to come with me to St. Crux. He lets her have one
of the best bedrooms, and treats her as if she was a lady. She is as
proud as Lucifer--she likes being treated like a lady--and she pesters
me every autumn to go to St. Crux. What's the matter? What are you
taking out your pocketbook for?"

"I want the admiral's address, Mr. Vanstone, for a purpose which I will
explain immediately."

With those words, Captain Wragge opened his pocketbook and wrote
down the address from Noel Vanstone's dictation, as follows: "Admiral
Bartram, St. Crux-in-the-Marsh, near Ossory, Essex."

"Good!" cried the captain, closing hi