CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Let's talk of this chap. ‘What would you do in Valade’s place?’ ‘You mean, knowing that the girl was here and liable to queer my pitch?’ ‘Precisely. ” He reeled out of the room. From this singular collection Trenchard turned to regard its possessor, who was standing at a little distance from him, still engaged in earnest discourse with his attendant, and, as he contemplated his ruthless countenance, on which duplicity and malignity had set their strongest seals, he could not help calling to mind all he had heard of Jonathan's perfidiousness to his employers, and deeply regretting that he had placed himself in the power of so unscrupulous a miscreant. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. I am resolved to see her, without delay, and ascertain if it's possible to remove her. This had well nigh been the case with the carpenter.
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