It contained only a
few lines in Honoria's hand; but the hand was uncertain, and the letter
scrawled and blotted, as if written in extreme haste and agitation of
mind.
"_Come to me at once, I entreat. I have immediate need of your help.
Pray come, my dear friend. I shall not detain you long. Let the child
remain in the castle during your absence. She will be safe with Mrs.
Morden_.
"_Clarendon Hotel, London_."
This, and the date, was all.
Captain Copplestone sat for some moments staring at this document with
a look of unmitigated perplexity.
"I can't make it out," he muttered to himself.
Presently he said aloud to Mrs. Morden--
"What a pity it is you women all write so much alike that it's
uncommonly difficult to swear to your writing. I'm perplexed by this
letter. I can't quite understand being summoned away from my pet. I
think you know Lady Eversleigh's hand?"
"Yes," answered the lady; "I received two letters from her before
coming here. I could scarcely be mistaken in her handwriting."
"You think not? Very well, then, please tell me if that is her hand,"
said the captain showing Mrs. Morden the address of the missive he had
just received.
"I should say decidedly, yes, that is her hand."
"Humph!" muttered the captain; "she said something about wanting me
when the hour of retribution drew near. Perhaps she has succeeded in
her schemes more rapidly than she expected, and the time is come.
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