you."

"Upon what?" he asked, in some surprise.

"Let us get out of this crowd," I answered. "I have a letter from John
Carvel, which you ought to read."

We threaded the rooms till we reached a small boudoir, occupied only by
one or two couples, exceedingly interested in each other.

"Read that," said I. It was the best thing I could do for him, I
thought. He might be annoyed to find that I knew his secret, but he
could not fail to rejoice at the view John took of the engagement. His
face changed many times in expression, as he read the letter carefully.
When he had finished he was silent and held it in his hand.

"What do you think of all this?" I asked.

"She never was mad. Or if she was, this is the strangest recovery I ever
heard of. So she is coming here with the rest! And uncle John thinks me
a very fine fellow," he added with a laugh, meant to be a little
sarcastic, but which ended with the irrepressible ring of genuine
happiness.

"I congratulate you," I said. "I think the affair is as good as settled.
You have only to wait a few weeks, and they will be here. By the by, I
hope you do not mind Carvel's frankness in telling me all about it?"

"Not in the least," answered Paul, with a smile. "I believe you are the
best friend I have in the world, and you are his friend. You will do
good rather than harm."

"I hope so," said I. "But if any one had foretold a month ago that we
should all be together again so soon,--and here, too,--I could have
laughed at him."

"It is fate," answered Paul. "It would be better if it could be put off
until we reach the end of our search, especially as we seem to be nearer
the track than ever before. I am afraid that their arrival will hinder
us--or, at least, me--from working as hard as I would like."

"On the contrary," I replied, "I fancy you will work all the harder. I
have been talking to Balsamides about the watch. He feels sure that he
can catch the man who took it to Marchetto."

I explained to Paul the course Gregorios proposed to follow. He seemed
to think the chance was a poor one.

"I have been pursued by an idea ever since this morning," he said at
last. "I dare say you will think it very foolish, but I cannot get rid
of it. Do you remember the adventure in the Valley of Roses? I told you
about it at Carvel Place. Very well. I cannot help thinking that the
negro who took the watch to Marchetto was the one who accompanied those
two Turkish women. The man was