"Beg pardon, sir," he said. "You've given me plenty. The letter's
of no value to me. I came very near tearing it up, but for the
peculiar colour pencil it's written with. Kinder took my fancy,
sir."
"The letter is of value," Mr. Sabin said. "It tells me much more
than I hoped to discover. It is our good fortune."
The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed. Mr. Sabin
touched the bell.
"Duson, what time is it?"
"Nearly midnight, sir!"
"I will go to bed!"
"Very good, sir!"
"Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson. I need rest. See that I am not
disturbed until ten o'clock to-morrow morning.
CHAPTER III
At precisely ten o'clock on the following morning Duson brought
chocolate, which he had prepared himself, and some dry toast to his
master's bedside. Upon the tray was a single letter. Mr. Sabin
sat up in bed and tore open the envelope. The following words were
written upon a sheet of the Holland House notepaper in the same
peculiar coloured crayon.
"The first warning addressed to you yesterday was a friendly one.
Profit by it. Go back to Lenox. You are only exposing yourself to
danger and the person you seek to discomfort. Wait there, and some
one shall come to you shortly who will explain what has happened,
and the necessity for it."
Mr. Sabin smiled, a slow contemplative smile.
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