occurred to me to betake myself to the bath. I left the
candle where it stood, and imagined that even in the bath I should hear
the sound of the bell which would be rung upon his arrival at the door.

No such signal occurred, and, after taking this refreshment, I prepared
to return to my post. The parlour was still unoccupied, but this was not
all; the candle I had left upon the table was gone. This was an
inexplicable circumstance. On my promise to wait for their master, the
servants had retired to bed. No signal of any one's entrance had been
given. The street door was locked, and the key hung at its customary
place upon the wall. What was I to think? It was obvious to suppose that
the candle had been removed by a domestic; but their footsteps could not
be traced, and I was not sufficiently acquainted with the house to find
the way, especially immersed in darkness, to their chamber. One measure,
however, it was evidently proper to take, which was to supply myself,
anew, with a light. This was instantly performed; but what was next to
be done?

I was weary of the perplexities in which I was embroiled. I saw no
avenue to escape from them but that which led me to the bosom of nature
and to my ancient occupations. For a moment I was tempted to resume my
rustic garb, and, on that very hour, to desert this habitation. One
thing only detained me; the desire to apprize my patron of the treachery
of Thetford. For this end I was anxious to obtain an interview; but now
I reflected that this information could by other means be imparted. Was
it not sufficient to write him briefly these particulars, and leave him
to profit by the knowledge? Thus I might, likewise, acquaint him with my
motives for thus abruptly and unseasonably deserting his service.

To the execution of this scheme pen and paper were necessary. The
business of writing was performed in the chamber on the third story. I
had been hitherto denied access to this room. In it was a show of papers
and books. Here it was that the task, for which I had been retained, was
to be performed; but I was to enter it and leave it only in company with
Welbeck. For what reasons, I asked, was this procedure to be adopted?

The influence of prohibitions and an appearance of disguise in awakening
curiosity is well known. My mind fastened upon the idea of this room
with an unusual degree of intenseness. I had seen it but for a moment.
Many of Welbeck's hours were spent in it. It was not