It took some little time to try the keys, for
there were several on the ring, and she did not know the right one: but
the lid flew open at last, and disclosed the two letters lying there.
She snatched at one, either that came first, and opened it. It happened
to be the one from Mr. Carr, and she began to read it, her heart beating.
"Dear Hartledon,
"I think I have at last found some trace of Gorton. There's a man of
that name in the criminal calendar here, down for trial to-morrow; I
shall see then whether it is the same, but the description tallies.
Should it be our Gorton, I think the better plan will be to leave him
entirely alone: a man undergoing a criminal sentence--and this man is
sure of a long period of it--has neither the means nor the motive to be
dangerous. He cannot molest you whilst he is working on Portland
Island; and, so far, you may live a little eased from fear. I wish--"
Mr. Carr's was a close handwriting, and this concluded the first page.
She was turning it over, when Lord Hartledon's voice on the stairs caught
her ear. He seemed to be coming up.
Ay, and he would have caught her at her work but for the accidental
circumstance of the old dowager's happening to look out of the
drawing-room and detaining him, as he was hastening onwards up the
stairs. She did her daughter good service that moment, if she had never
done it before.
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