Nor had any one been seen like him.
The asylum for "masterless men," near Smart's Quay, and all the other
dens for thieves and criminals hiding from justice, in and about the
metropolis, were searched, but with the like ill result. Hitherto,
Mompesson had contrived entirely to baffle the vigilance of his foe.
At last, Osmond applied to Luke Hatton, thinking it possible his cunning
might suggest some plan for the capture of the fugitive. After listening
with the greatest attention to all related to him, the apothecary
pondered for awhile, and then said--"It is plain he has trusted no one
with his retreat, but I think I can find him. Come to me on the third
night from this, and you shall hear further. Meantime, you need not
relax your own search, though, if it be as I suspect, failure is sure to
attend you."
Obliged to be satisfied with this promise, Osmond departed. On the
third night, at a late hour, he returned. He did not, however, find Luke
Hatton. The apothecary, it appeared, had been absent from home during
the last three days, and the old woman who attended upon him was full of
uneasiness on his account. Her master, she said, had left a letter on
his table, and on investigation it proved to be for Osmond. In it the
writer directed him, in the event of his non-return before the time
appointed, to repair without delay, well armed, to the vaults beneath
Mompesson's old habitation near the Fleet, and to make strict search for
him throughout them.
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