Yes, an' all they got was a knife, and a pistol, and some loose silver
and coppers."

"They didn't discover any papers?"

"No; I'm sure o' that," asserted Mrs. Miggs. "I can't stand 'ere all
night," she impatiently added.

Nevill took the hint, and set to work in good spirits. The landlady
watched him scornfully while he hauled the carpet and bedding about, and
examined all the joints of the few articles of furniture. He then
proceeded--there was no fireplace in the room--to tap every part of the
walls, and to try the flooring to see if any boards were loose. But the
walls were solid and untampered with, and the nails in the floor had
clearly not been disturbed for many years. He spent half an hour at his
task, and the result was a barren failure. He realized that it would be
useless to search further. He looked sharply at the landlady, and said,
on a sudden impulse:

"You knew Mr. Hawker pretty well, I think. Perhaps he asked you to
oblige him by taking care of the papers I am looking for; they could not
possibly be of any advantage to you in the future, and if you have them
I should be glad to buy them from you. I would give as much as--"

"I only wish I _did_ 'ave them!" interrupted Mrs. Miggs. "I wouldn't
'esitate a minute to turn 'em into money. But I don't know nothin' of
them, sir, an' you see yourself they ain't 'id in this room, an' Mr.
'Awker never put foot in any other part of the 'ouse."

The woman's expression of disappointment, her manner, satisfied Nevill
that his suspicion was baseless. There was nothing more to be done, so
he gave Mrs. Miggs an additional half-sovereign, cautioned her not to
speak of his visit, and left the house. His last state of mind was worse
than his first, and dread of exposure, tormenting visions of a dreary
and perpetual exile from England, not to speak of more bitter things,
haunted him as he strode moodily toward the lights of the Kentish Town
road.

"The papers may be in that room, hidden so securely as to baffle any
search," he said to himself, "and if that is the case there is still
hope. But it is more likely that Hawker had them concealed under his
clothing or in his boots. I will know in a day or two--if the police
find them, they will make the matter public. All I can do is to wait.
But the suspense is awful, and I wish it was over."

The next day was cold, sunny and bracing--more like the end of February
than the end of November. At nine o'clock in the morning