, and lying with eyes wide
open gazing at the ceiling. Suddenly, and before Jeffreys could
withdraw, the eyes turned and met his. For an instant they rested there
vacantly, then a gasp and a shriek of horror proclaimed that Forrester
had recognised him.

In a moment he was outside the door, and had closed it before the nurse
started up from her slumber.

He had not been in his study a minute when he heard a sound of footsteps
and whispered voices without. The boy's cry had reached the wakeful
ears of Mr Frampton, and already he was on his way to the sick-chamber.

Jeffreys sank down on his bed in an agony of terror and suspense. The
boy's cry resounded in his ears and deafened him, till at last he could
endure it no longer.

Next morning, when the school was gathered in the hall, after prayers,
Mr Frampton, looking round him, missed the figure that was uppermost in
his thoughts.

"Will some one tell Jeffreys to come here?" he said.

Mr Freshfield went, but returned suddenly to announce that Jeffreys'
study was empty, and that a rope formed of sheets suspended from his
window made it evident he had escaped in the night and quitted Bolsover.

CHAPTER FOUR.

GONE AGAIN.

On the evening following Jeffreys' departure from Bolsover, a middle-
aged, handsome gentleman was sitting in his comfortable study in the
city of York, whistling pleasantly to himself.

The house in which he lived was a small one, yet roomy enough for an old
bachelor. And what it wanted in size it made up for in the elegance and
luxury of its furniture and adornments.

Mr Halgrove was evidently a connoisseur in the art of making himself
comfortable. Everything about him was of the best, and bespoke not only
a man of taste but a man of means. The books on the shelves--and where
can you find any furniture to match a well-filled bookcase?--were well
chosen and well bound. The pictures on the walls were all works of art
and most tastefully hung. The knickknacks scattered about the room were
ornamental as well as useful. Even the collie dog which lay luxuriously
on the hearthrug with one eye half open was as beautiful as he was
faithful.

Mr Halgrove whistled pleasantly to himself as he stirred his coffee and
glanced down the columns of the London paper.

If you had looked over his shoulder, you would have come to the
conclusion that Mr Halgrove's idea of what was interesting in a
newspaper and your own by no means coincided.