"When did you leave the city, may I ask?"

 

"On Tuesday."

 

"Then you came directly here?"

 

"Yes, I came directly here."

 

"You must then have heard of St. Victor before starting."

 

"Yes."

 

"Yet I fancy it is so obscure that its existence can be known to very few in the great city."

 

"I presume you are right. I was recommended to come here by a friend."

 

"Ah!" commented James Sinclair, beginning to think he was right, though it seemed to him very strange that Mr. Wainwright should have selected so young a messenger. "I should like to see New York once more."

 

"Who wouldn't?" interposed Bowman impatiently. "In New York you can _live._ Here in St. Victor one can only vegetate."

 

"Don't you expect to go back to New York some day, Mr. Sinclair?" asked Fred.

 

"I don't know; I hope so."

 

"When our business in Canada is completed," said Bowman, "we shall probably both go back."

 

"Are you going to sleep here to-night, Bowman?" asked Sinclair.

 

"No, I think not. I have taken a room in the hotel."

 

"You must do as you like, of course, but it is lonely for me. Besides I might need assistance."

 

"Let the girl stay here, then. I should make a miserable sick nurse. I will ask young Fenton, here, if it is reasonable to expect me to bury myself in such a cheerless place when it will do no good."

 

Fred was disgusted with the man's selfishness. "If I had a friend sick," he said, "I think I would be quite willing to keep him company."

 

"You say so now, but wait till the time comes."

 

"Your words, Mr. Fenton," said Sinclair, "embolden me............