The very day after this conversation he bounced into her room in great dudgeon. "There, madam! the advertisements _have_ produced an effect; and not a pleasant one. Here's a detective on to us. He is feeling his way with Karl. I knew the man in a moment; calls himself Poikilus in print, and Smith to talk to; but he is Aaron at the bottom of it all, and can speak several languages. Confound their impudence! putting a detective on to _us,_ when it is they that are keeping dark.""Who do you think has sent him?" asked Ina, intently.
"The party interested, I suppose."
"Interested in what?"
"Why, in the money you won; for he was drawing Karl about that.""Then _he_ sent the man!" And Ina began to pant and change color.
"Well, now you put it to me, I think so. Come to look at it, it is certain. Who else _could_ it be? Here is a brace of sweeps. They wouldn't be the worse for a good kicking. You say the word, and Smith shall have one, at all events.""Alas! my friend," said Ina, "for once you are slow. What! a messenger comes here direct from _him;_ and are we so dull we can learn nothing from him who comes to question us? Let me think."She leaned her forehead on her white hand, and her face seemed slowly to fill with intellectual power.
"That man," said she at last, "is the only link between him and me. Imust speak to him."
Then she thought again.
"No, not yet. He must be detained in the house. Letters may come to him, and their postmarks may give us some clew.""I'll recommend the house to him."