“Yes, yes,” said Learmont, eagerly, “and you saw—”
“And—the boy? You heard the boy? A boy’s voice?”
“My good friend, I would not insult you on any consideration. I am mistaken—I thought you said you heard a boy’s voice.”
“You are—a—f—f—fool—a ex—extraordinary fool.”
“Well,” said Learmont, in an oily voice, “you saw the boy?”
“Ah, now,” cried his drunken companion, “now you have hit it. I’ll just tell you how—I—I cir—circum—navi—no, that ain’t it, circum—ventated you.”
“Do,” said Learmont. ”You are exceedingly clever.”
“I know it. Well, I heard you talking to some one, and I went from window to window to try to see in, you know, and at one of ’em I saw him.”
“Says he, in a mournful kind o’ way, says he,—what do you think now?”
“Oh, but it’s ex—extraordinary, because you see that’s how—I found out your name, you see.”
“No, you don’t know it. You cannot know it.”
“Well, what is it, then, if you do know it?”
“Gray!” cried Learmont, with so sharp a cry, that the man jumped again; and would have fallen had not Learmont clutched him tightly by the arm.
“Ye—ye—yes,” stammered the drunken man, in whom the reader has already recognised Sheldon, the waterman, to whom Gray had proposed the murder of Britton.
“You are sure? on your life—on your soul, you are sure the name was Gray?”
The man looked in the countenance of Learmont, as well as the darkness would permit him, and answered, not without evident trepidation,—
“Gray—yes—Gray—it—it was. I shouldn’t have known it—but, you see, the boy stopped at the window to cry—”
“Then, he said, ‘Can this man, Gray, really be of my kindred? Do we think alike?’ says he, ‘do we’—now, hang me, if I recollect what he said.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” suddenly laughed Learmont. “You are brave and acute. Ha, ha! You have found me out, I see. I am Gray. Ha, ha!”
“I—I—beg—your pardon, Mister Gray,” hiccupped the man, “but was that y—y—you that laughed in that odd way? Eh?”
“Then—d—don’t do it again. It’s the most uncom—com—comfortable sort o’ laugh I ever heard; an ex—ex—extraordinary laugh.”
“Ay, Sheldon,” resumed Learmont. “I will have no secrets from you. You shall come home with me. You know the way?”
“Then, come on,” cried Learmont, with difficulty concealing his exultations at the chance that had thus thrown in his way a guide to Gray’s house.