shall be starting in half an hour."

"Can't you put it off till to-morrow, sir?"

"No, thanks. But I want to finish this letter."

"Well, sir, there'll be some supper for you in the parlour. It's
master's orders."

Jeffreys' letter was to Mr Frampton.

"Sir," he wrote, "I left Bolsover because I could not bear to be there
any longer. I did not mean to injure Forrester so awfully, though I was
wicked enough to have a spite against him. I am not a murderer, though
I am as bad as one. If I could do anything to help Forrester get better
I would come, but I should only make everything worse. My guardian has
turned me away, and I shall have to find employment. But the
housekeeper here, Mrs Jessop, will always know where I am, and send on
to me if I am wanted. I should not think of hiding away till I hear
that Forrester is better. If he dies I should not care to live, so I
should be only too glad to give myself up. I cannot come back to
Bolsover now, even if I wanted, as I have only a pound, and my guardian
tells me that is all the money I have in the world. Please write and
say if Forrester is better. I am too miserable to write more.

"Yours truly,--

"John Jeffreys."

Having finished this dismal letter, he packed up one or two of his
things in a small handbag and descended to the parlour. There he found
an ample supper provided for him by the tender-hearted Mrs Jessop, who
had a pretty shrewd guess as to the nature of the "journey" that her
master's ward was about to take. But Jeffreys was not hungry, and the
announcement that the meal was there by the "master's orders" turned him
against it.

"I can't eat anything, thank you," he said to Mrs Jessop, "you gave me
such a good tea only a little while ago."

"But you've a long journey, Master John. Is it a long journey, sir?"

"I don't know yet," he said. "But I want you to promise to send me on
any letter or message that comes, will you?"

"Where to?"

"To the head post-office, here."

"Here? Then you're not going out of York?"

"Not at first. I'll let you know when I go where to send on the
letters."

"Mr John," said the housekeeper, "the master's turned you away. Isn't
that it?"

"Perhaps he's got a reason for it. Good-bye, Mrs Jessop."

"Oh, but Mr John--"

But John interrupted her with a kiss on her motherly cheek, and next
moment was gone.

CHAPTER FIVE.

FREDDY AND TEDDY.

John Jeffreys, as he stood in the street th