to-night but bed. Will one of your people call a cab for me? Oh, here's Prestleigh."
As Charles had gone out, dashing along the passage from his interview, he nearly dashed against Mr. Prestleigh, who was coming up, some papers in hand.
"Take care, Raynor! What are you in such a hurry about? Is Mr. George Atkinson gone?"
"Who, sir?" asked Charles, struck with the name.
"Mr. George Atkinson. Is he still with Mr. Preen?"
"Some gentleman is with him, sir. He is sitting over the fire.
"The same, no doubt. He is a great invalid just now."
Charles felt his face flush all over. So, it was the owner of Eagles' Nest before whom he had spoken. What a singular coincidence! The only time that a word had escaped his lips in regard to their fallen fortunes, he must be present and hear it! And Charley felt inclined to wish he had lost his tongue first. All the world might