dusty job in
a old 'ouse at Purfleet. There ain't a many such jobs as this 'ere,
an' I'm thinkin' that maybe Sam Bloxam could tell ye summut."

I asked if he could tell me where to find him. I told him that if he
could get me the address it would be worth another half sovereign to
him. So he gulped down the rest of his tea and stood up, saying that
he was going to begin the search then and there.

At the door he stopped, and said, "Look 'ere, guv'nor, there ain't no
sense in me a keepin' you 'ere. I may find Sam soon, or I mayn't, but
anyhow he ain't like to be in a way to tell ye much tonight. Sam is a
rare one when he starts on the booze. If you can give me a envelope
with a stamp on it, and put yer address on it, I'll find out where Sam
is to be found and post it ye tonight. But ye'd better be up arter
'im soon in the mornin', never mind the booze the night afore."

This was all practical, so one of the children went off with a penny
to buy an envelope and a sheet of paper, and to keep the change. When
she came back, I addressed the envelope and stamped it, and when
Smollet had again faithfully promised to post the address when found,
I took my way to home. We're on the track anyhow. I am tired
tonight, and I want to sleep. Mina is fast asleep, and looks a little
too pale. Her eyes look as though she had been crying. Poor dear,
I've no doubt it frets her to be kept in the dark, and it may make her
doubly anxious about me and the others. But it is best as it is. It
is better to be disappointed and worried in such a way now than to
have her nerve broken. The doctors were quite right to insist on her
being kept out of this dreadful business. I must be firm, for on me
this particular burden of silence must rest. I shall not ever enter
on the subject with her under any circumstances. Indeed, It may not
be a hard task, after all, for she herself has become reticent on the
subject, and has not spoken of the Count or his doings ever since we
told her of our decision.

2 October, evening--A long and trying and exciting day. By the first
post I got my directed envelope with a dirty scrap of paper enclosed,
on which was written with a carpenter's pencil in a sprawling hand,
"Sam Bloxam, Korkrans, 4 Poters Cort, Bartel Street, Walworth. Arsk
for the depite."

I got the letter in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She looked
heavy and sleepy and pale, and far from well. I determined not to
wake her,