Chapter 18

_Abbot_. 'Tis useless all. No trace of him found yet. One hope remains: that fellow has a head!

_Enter_ STEPHEN.

Stephen, I have sent for you, because I am told You said to-day, if I commissioned you, You'd scent him out, if skulking in his grave.

_Stephen_. I did, my lord.

_Abbot_. How would you do it, Stephen?

_Stephen_. Try one plan till it failed; then try another; Try half-a-dozen plans at once; keep eyes And ears wide open, and mouth shut, my lord: Your bull-dog sometimes makes the best retriever. I have no plan; but, give me time and money, I'll find him out.

_Abbot_. Stephen, you're just the man I have been longing for. Get yourself ready.