"Well, my man Andrew might help him," the Colonel said. "Simcoe has often dined with me at the club, but he never came to my chambers. One man cannot be always on the watch, and Andrew can take turns with Roberts. He is an impudent rascal, but he has got a fair share of sense; so, when you are ready, if you will drop me a line, he shall come here and take his instructions from you."
"Thank you very much, Colonel. That certainly would be of assistance. It is only of an evening that he would be wanted, for we are quite agreed that these meetings are sure to take place after dark."
A month passed. Tom Roberts and Andrew watched together in Jermyn Street, the former with a cap pulled well down over his face and very tattered clothes, the latter dressed as a groom, but making no attempt to disguise his face. During that time everyone who called at the house in Jermyn Street was followed, and their names and addresses ascertained, one always remaining in Jermyn Street while the other was away. The man they were watching had gone out every evening, but it was either to one or the other of the clubs to which he belonged, or to the theater or opera.
"You will trace him to the right place presently, Roberts," Hilda said cheerfully, when she saw that he was beginning to be disheartened at the non-success of his search. "You may be sure that he will not go to see these men oftener than he can help. Does he generally wear evening clothes?"
"I don't think there is any occasion to follow him in future when he goes out in that dress; I think it certain that when he goes to meet these men he will be in disguise. When you see him come out dressed altogether differently to usual, follow him closely. Even if we only find where he goes it will be a very important step."
On the seventh week after the disappearance of Walter, Mr. Pettigrew came in one morning at eleven o'clock. His air was very grave.
"Have you heard news, Mr. Pettigrew?" Hilda asked.
"I have very bad news. Mr. Comfrey, a lawyer of not the highest standing, who is, I have learnt, acting for this fellow, called upon me. He said, 'I am sorry to say that I have some painful news to give you, Mr. Pettigrew. Yesterday the body of a child, a boy some six or seven years old, was found in the canal at Paddington. It was taken to the lockhouse. The features were entirely unrecognizable, and the police surgeon who examined it said that it had been in the water over a month. Most of its clothing was gone, partly torn off by barges passing over the body; but there still remained a portion of its underclothing, and this bore the letters W. R. The police recognized them as those of the child who has been so largely advertised for, and, as my client, Mr. Simcoe, had offered a thousand pounds reward, and as all information was to be sent to me, a policeman came down, just as I was closing the office, to inform me of the fact.