"Only come with me, and satisfy yourself as to the existence of one of
these nuisances, and then you will have grounds on which to go," said
Tom, who had still hopes of making a cat's-paw of Elsley, and by his
power over him, pulling the strings from behind.
Sorely against his will, Elsley went, saw, and smelt; came home again;
was very unwell; and was visited nightly for a week after that by that
most disgusting of all phantoms, sanitary nightmare; which some
who have worked in the foul places of the earth know but too well.
Evidently his health could not stand it. There was no work to be got
out of him in that direction.
"Would he write, then, and represent matters to Lord Scoutbush?"
How could he? He did not know the man; not a line had ever been
exchanged between them. Their relations were so very peculiar. It
would seem sheer impertinence on his part to interfere with the
management of Lord Scoutbush's property. Really there was a great deal
to be said, Tom felt, for poor Elsley's dislike of meddling in that
quarter.
"Would Mrs. Vavasour write, then?"
"For Heaven's sake do not mention it to her. She would be so terrified
about the children; she is worn out with anxiety already,"--and so
forth.
Tom went back to Frank Headley.
"You see a good deal of Miss St. Just."
"I?--No--why?--what?" said poor Frank, blushing.
"Only that you must make her write to her brother about this cholera.
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