he added, surveying me from head to foot, "I didn't expect to find such
a big, strapping fellow as you are. Your surroundings are quite as I had
supposed they would be. Cramped quarters in a miserable tumble-down back
street! I suppose your guardian provided this place for you?"

"I believe so," said I.

"Did you know that your stepmother had married again?" he asked.

"Married!" I exclaimed. "To whom?"

"To Martin Cobb."

"To my guardian?" I asked, in astonishment.

Not heeding my question, he continued:

"You're intending to go home to-morrow, I believe?"

"Yes, sir."

"My boy," said he, "I have an interest in you. I was your father's
friend and adviser for many years. I came all this distance to tell you
not to go to London. Do not ask me why, I beg you," said he, with an
impatient gesture when I attempted to speak. "It would do you no good to
learn my reason for making this request. Listen to this--it's important
to you: There's an uncle of yours in America, your nearest relative,
I believe. Of course you have heard your father speak of him. A most
eccentric fellow! but a man of fine ability. He was a graduate of Oxford
and a physician of great skill and learning. Thirty-five years ago he
went to Canada and finally settled in a large town on one of the great
lakes not far from the border. It was Detroit, I believe. Your father
told me, shortly before his death, that he had not heard from your uncle
for many years. I have written to him twice within a twelvemonth, but
have received no reply. I want you to go over and look him up. If you
should find that he is dead, there's no harm done, and you can take time
to look about for a business opportunity. If you don't like it, come
back, but, if you can content yourself there for awhile, you had better
do so."

"But, sir, I have no money."

"You are going for me; I shall, therefore, insist upon paying the bills.
In the success of the undertaking I have, perhaps, as great an interest
as you."

"When do you wish me to start?" I asked.

"To-night. That is to say, I would like you to leave this place at once,
go with me to a hotel, and sail by the first steamer that leaves for New
York."

Ever since that strange and silent messenger had come to me with my
uncle's letter I had been haunted by a desire to go in quest of him. Now
that it was possible, I hesitated. What would Hester say on hearing that
I had gone to America? It would be very grand to write her f