His heart died within him at the expression of the
landlady's face when she had opened the door to him, and found that he
was alone.

"Where's Mr Oldfield?" he gasped.

"That's just what I was going to ask you, Mr Poole."

"What! you don't mean to say he's left your house?"

"He has indeed," was the reply. "I've seen nothing of him since the day
after you left."

"Seen nothing of him!" exclaimed Jacob in complete bewilderment; "but
has he sent you no message--no letter?"

"No, Mr Poole, he's neither sent nor written. He paid me all he owed
me up to the last night he slept here, and that's all I know."

"And has he left no message, nothing to tell one where he's gone?" asked
Jacob.

"Nothing," she said, "unless this letter's from him--it came a few days
ago."

Jacob seized it, and tore it open. When he had read a few lines he let
it drop upon the floor, and stood gazing at it as though some strange
fascination glared out from it upon him. Then he took it up again, read
it deliberately through, laid it on the table, and sitting down, burst
into an agony of weeping. The letter was as follows:--

"DEAR JACOB,--I _must_ write to you, though I hardly can hold my pen,
and every letter, as I write, seems like blood wrung out from my
heart. Well, it's no use; you shall have the naked truth at once. I
have robbed you, Jacob, artfully, basely, deliberately, cruelly robbed
you, and all through the cursed drink. I hate myself for it as the
vilest wretch upon earth. And yet I have no excuse to make. I have
been gambling with a wretched set of sharpers, who got hold of me when
I was drunk. They cleaned me out of every penny. I was ruined--I was
desperate--I thought if I could get hold of your nuggets I could turn
them into money, win back what I had lost, and repay you with
interest. I got some lead, melted it in a shovel, (I need not tell
you _where_ I did this; it was in no good place, you may be sure). I
made the lead into the shape of nuggets. The night but one before you
left I tried to find out where you kept your bag; you were restless
and clutched at your pillow. I knew then that it was there. I got
another leather bag and filled it with the leaden nuggets I had made.
These I slipped behind your pillow, and took away the real ones, the
night before you left; you felt for them, and fancied you had them
safe. When I had got out the gold, I crouched down in the