"But how is this?" he added; "you are silent, and I fear, now that I
look at you a second time, that matters have not gone well with you.
For God's sake, however, let me know; for I am impatient to hear the
result."
"All is lost," replied Birney; "and I fear we have been outgeneralled.
The clergyman is dead, and the book in which the record of her death
was registered has disappeared, no one knows how. I strongly suspect,
however, that your opponent is at the bottom of it."
"You mean Dunroe?"
"I do; that scoundrel Norton, at once his master and his slave,
accompanied by a suspicious-looking fellow, whose name I discovered to
be Mulholland, were there before us, and I fear, carried their point
by securing the register, which I have no doubt has been by this time
reduced to ashes."
"In that case, then," replied the stranger, despondingly, "it's all up
with us."
"Unless," observed Birney, "you have been more successful at home than I
have been abroad. Any trace of Mrs. Norton?"
"None whatsoever.
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