He lay waiting for Mrs. Moffat and trying to make up his mind what he
had better do, when Seabrooke himself entered the room and went
directly to his alcove, in his turn unconscious of Charlie's
presence.
He looked troubled and harassed, as he well might do, and sat down
for a moment, leaning his head upon his hand, and seemingly in deep
thought.
Should he tell him? Charlie asked himself.
Presently with a sigh and a despondent shake of the head, to which he
would never have given vent had he known that any one was observing
him, Seabrooke rose, and going to his trunk proceeded to lock it.
It was too much for Charlie.
"Seabrooke!" he said, in a low tone, and raising himself from his
pillows.
Seabrooke looked up, startled at finding that he was not the sole
occupant of the room.
"Charlie," he exclaimed, "what are you doing here?" Then with a flash
of recollection, "Oh! I suppose they put you here to sleep off your
headache."
"Yes," answered Charlie, "and--Seabrooke--"
"Well, what is it?" asked the other, as the boy hesitated.
"Won't you look in your trunk--carefully--before you lock it?" said
Charlie.
"Why?" asked Seabrooke, much surprised, and thinking for a moment
that Charlie's headache must have produced something like delirium.
"Oh, because," said Charlie, thinking how he could best warn
Seabrooke and yet not betray Flagg, "because--there's something in
your trunk."
"Of course there is," said Seabrooke, "lots of things, I should
say--pretty much all I possess is there.
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