attend the first performance of the new. Her mysterious uncle had
never again communicated with her, and Polly began to doubt what Mr.
Gammon's knowledge really was; but she had given her confidence beyond
recall, and, though with many vicissitudes of feeling, she still wished
to keep Gammon sole ally in this strange affair. Once or twice indeed
she had felt disposed to tell Christopher that there was "someone
else"; but nothing Gammon had said fully justified this, and Polly,
though an emotional young woman, had a good deal of prudence. One thing
was certain, she very much desired to bring her old enemy to the point
of a declaration. How she would receive it when it came she could not
wholly determine.

Her conjecture regarding the unknown lady was justified. Among the
first who entered the stalls was a man whom Polly seemed to remember,
and close behind him came first a younger lady, then the one for whom
her eyes had searched night after night. In supplying them with
programmes Polly observed and listened with feverish attention. The
elder woman had slightly grizzled hair; her age could not be less than
fifty, but she was in good health and spirits. With the intention of
describing her to Gammon, Polly noticed that she had a somewhat
masculine nose, high in the bridge.

A quarter of an hour before the end of the piece Polly, dressed for
departure, came forth and discovered her faithful slave.

"Now listen to me," she said, checking his blandishments. "I told you
there might be something to do for me, and there is."

Parish was all eagerness.

"There'll be three people coming out from the stalls, a gentleman and
two ladies. I'll show you them--see? They'll drive off in a
kerridge--see? And I want you to find out where they go."

Nothing could have been more startling to Christopher, in whose mind
began a whirl of suspicions and fears.

"Why? What for?" he asked involuntarily.

Polly was short with him.

"All right, if you won't do it say so, and I'll ask somebody else. I've
no time to lose."

He gasped and stammered. Yes, yes, of course he would do it. He had not
dreamt of refusing. He would run after the carriage, however far.

"Don't be a silly. You'll have to take a 'ansom and tell the driver to
follow--see?"

Yes, oh, yes, of course. He would do so. He trembled with excessive
nervousness, and but for the sharp, contemptuous directions given him
by Miss Sparkes must have hopelessly bungled the under