On the morning after the last escape of Beatrice, Clark went up to Brandon Hall. It was about nine o’clock. A sullen frown was on his face, which was pervaded by an expression of savage malignity. A deeply preoccupied look, as though he were altogether absorbed in his own thoughts, prevented him from noticing the half-smiles which the servants cast at one another.

Asgeelo opened the door. That valuable servant was at his post as usual. Clark brushed past him with a growl and entered the dining-room.

Potts was standing in front of the fire with a flushed face and savage eyes. John was stroking his dog, and appeared quite indifferent. Clark, however, was too much taken up with his own thoughts to notice Potts. He came in and sat down in silence.

“Well,” said Potts, “did you do that business?”

“No,” growled Clark.

“No!” cried Potts. “Do you mean to say you didn’t follow up the fellow?”

“I mean to say it’s no go,” returned Clark. “I did what I could. But when you are after a man, and he turns out to be the DEVIL HIMSELF, what can you do?”

At these words, which were spoken with unusual excitement, John gave a low laugh, but said nothing.

“You’ve been getting rather soft lately, it seems to me,” said Potts. “At any rate, what did you do?”

“Well,” said Clark, slowly—“I went to that inn—to watch the fellow. He was sitting by the fire, taking it very easy. I tried to make out whether I had ever seen him before, but could not. He sat by the fire, and wouldn’t say a word. I tried to trot him out, and at last I did so. He trotted out in good earnest, and if any man was ever kicked at and ridden rough-shod over, I’m that individual. He isn’t a man—he’s Beelzebub. He knows every thing. He began in a playful way by taking a piece of charcoal and writing on the wall some marks which belong to me, and which I’m a little delicate about letting people see; in fact, the Botany Bay marks.”

“Did he know that?” cried Potts, aghast.

“Not only knew it, but, as I was saying, marked it on the wall. That’s a sign of knowledge. And for fear they wouldn’t be understood, he kindly explained to about a dozen people present the particular meaning of each.”

“The devil!” said John.

“That’s what I said he was,” rejoined Clark, dryly. “But that’s nothing. I remember when I was a little boy,” he continued, pensively, “hearing the parson read about some handwriting on the wall, that frightened Beelzebub himself; but I tell you this handwriting on the wall used me up a good deal more than that other. Still what followed was worse.”

Clark paused for a little while, and then, taking a long breath, went on.

“He proceeded to give to the assembled company an account of my life, particularly that very interesting part of it which I passed on my last visit to Botany Bay. You know my escape.”

He stopped for a while.

“Did he know about that, too?” asked Potts, with some agitation.

“Johnnie,” said Clark, “he knew a precious sight more than you do, and told some things which I had forgotten myself. Why, that devil stood up there and slowly told the company not only what I did but what I felt. He brought it all back. He told how I looked at Stubbs, and how Stubbs looked at me in the boat. He told how we sat looking at each other, each in our own end of the boat.”

Clark stopped again, and no one spoke for a long time.

“I lost my breath and ran out,” he resumed, “and was afraid to go back. I did so at last. It was then almost midnight. I found him still sitting there. He smiled at me in a way that fairly made my blood run cold. ‘Crocker,’ said he, ‘sit down.’”

At this Potts and John looked at each other in horror.

“He knows that too?” said John.

“Every thing,” returned Clark, dejectedly.

“Well, when he said that I looked a little surprised, as you may be sure.

“‘I thought you’d be back,’ said he, ‘for you want to see me, you know. You’re going to follow me,’ says he. ‘You’ve got your pistols all ready, so, as I always like to oblige a friend, I’ll give you a chance. Come.’

“At this I fairly staggered.

“‘Come,’ says he, ‘I’ve got all that money, and Potts wants it back. And you’re going to get it from me. Come.’

“I swear to you I could not move. He smiled at me as before, and quietly got up and left the house. I stood for some time fixed to the spot. At last I grew reckless. ‘If he’s the devil himself,’ says I, ‘I’ll have it out with him.’ I rushed out and followed in his pursuit. After some time I overtook him. He was on horseback, but his horse was walking. He heard me coming. ‘Ah, Crocker,’ said he, quite merrily, ‘so you’ve come, have you?’

“I tore my pistol from my pocket and fired. The only reply was a loud laugh. He went on without turning his head. I was now sure that it was the devil, but I fired my other pistol. He gave a tremendous laugh, turned his horse, and rode full at me. His horse seemed as large as the village church. Every thing swam around, and I fell headforemost on the ground. I believe I lay there all night. When I came to it was morning, and I hurried straight here.”

As he ended Clark arose, and, going to the sideboard, poured out a large glass of brandy, which he drank raw.

“The fact is,” said John, after long thought, “you’ve been tricked. This fellow has doctored your pistols and frightened you.”

“But I loaded them myself,” replied Clark.

“When?”

“Oh, I always keep them loaded in my room. I tried them, and found the charge was in them.”

“Oh, somebody’s fixed them.”

“I don’t think half as much about the pistols as about what he told me. What devil could have put all that into his head? Answer me that,” said Clark.

“Somebody’s at work around us,” said John. “I feel it in my bones.”

“We’re getting used up,” said Potts. “The girl’s gone again.”

“The girl! Gone!”

“Yes, and Mrs. Compton too.”

“The devil!”

“I’d rather lose the girl than Mrs. Compton; but when they both vanish the same night what are you to think?”

“I think the devil is loose.”

“I’m afraid he’s turned against us,” said Potts, in a regretful tone. “He’s got tired of helping us.”

“Do none of the servants know any thing about it?”

“No—none of them.”

“Have you asked them all?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that new servant, the Injin?”

“No; they all went to bed at twelve. Vijal was up as late as two. They all swear that every thing was quiet.”

“Did they go out through the doors?”

“The doors were all locked as usual.”

“There’s treachery somewhere!” cried John, with more excitement than usual.

The others were silent.

“I believe that the girl’s at the bottom of it all,” said John. “We’ve been trying to take her down ever since she came, but it’s my belief that we’ll end by getting took down ourselves. I scented bad luck in her at the other side of the world. We’ve been acting like fools. We ought to have silenced her at first.”

“No,” rejoined Potts, gloomily. “There’s somebody at work deeper than she is. Somebody—but who?—who?”

“Nobody but the devil,” said Clark, firmly.

“I’ve been thinking about that Italian,” continued Potts. “He’s the only man living that would bother his head about the girl. They know a good deal between them. I think he’s managed some of this last business. He humbugged us. It isn’t the devil; it’s this Italian. We must look out; he’ll be around here again perhaps.”

Clark’s eyes brightened.

“The next time,” said he, “I’ll load my pistols fresh, and then see if he’ll escape me!”

At this a noise was heard in the hall. Potts went out. The servants had been scouring the grounds as before, but with no result.

“No use,” said John. “I tried it with my dog. He went straight down through the gate, and a little distance outside the scent was lost. I tried him with Mrs. Compton too. They both went together, and of course had horses or carriages there.”

“What does the porter say?” asked Clark.

“He swears that he was up till two, and then went to bed, and that nobody was near the gate.”

“Well, we can’t do any thing,” said Potts; “but I’ll send some of the servants off to see what they can hear. The scent was lost so soon that we can’t tell what direction they took.

“You’ll never get her again,” said John; “she’s gone for good this time.”

Potts swore a deep oath and relapsed into silence. After a time they all went down to the bank.