"No offence again, if I'm wrong," resumed Pike; "but if that man you saw
here on the bridge is not looking after the Honourable Mr. Elster, I'm a
fool."

"Why do you think this?" inquired Val, too fully aware that the fact was
a likely one to attempt any reproof or disavowal.

"I'll tell you," said Pike; "I've said I don't mind doing a good turn
when I can. The man arrived here this morning by the slow six train from
London. He went into the Stag and had his breakfast, and has been
covertly dodging about ever since. He inquired his way to Hartledon. The
landlord of the Stag asked him what he wanted there, and got for answer
that his brother was one of the grooms in my lord's service. Bosh! He
went up, sneaking under the hedges and along by-ways, and took a view of
the house, standing a good hour behind a tree while he did it. I was
watching him."

It instantly struck Percival Elster, by one of those flashes of
conviction that are no less sure than subtle, that Mr. Pike's interest in
this watching arose from a fear that the stranger might have been looking
after _him_. Pike continued:

"After he had taken his fill of waiting, he came dodging down this way,
and I got into conversation with him. He wanted to know who I was. A poor
devil out of work, I told him; a soldier once, but maimed and good for
little now. We got chatty. I let him think he might trust me, and he
began asking no end of questions about Mr. Elster: whether he went out
much, what were his hours for going out, which road he mostly took in his
walks, and how he could know him from his brother the earl; he had heard
they were alike. The hound was puzzled; he had seen a dozen swells come