her appearance, and I had the three
before me--A. Clifton, S. Clifton, and M. Clifton. There was no other
girl in the family; and when I described the young lady who had travelled
under their name, they could not think of any one in the town--it was a
small one--who answered my description, or who had gone on a visit to
London. I had no time to spare, and I hurried back to the station, just
catching the train as it left the platform. At the appointed hour I met
Morville at the General Post-office, and threading the long passages of
the secretary's offices, we at length found ourselves anxiously waiting
in an ante-room, until we were called into his presence. Morville had
discovered nothing, except that the porters and policemen at Camden-town
station had seen a young lady pass out last night, attended by a swarthy
man who looked like a foreigner, and carried a small black portmanteau.

I scarcely know how long we waited; it might have been years, for I was
conscious of an ever-increasing difficulty in commanding my thoughts, or
fixing them upon the subject which had engrossed them all day. I had not
tasted food for twenty-four hours, nor closed my eyes for thirty-six,
while, during the whole of the time, my nervous system had been on full
strain.

Presently, the summons came, and I was ushered, first, into the inner
apartment. There sat five gentlemen round a table, which was strewed
with a number of documents. There were the Secretary of State, whom we
had seen in the morning, our secretary, and Mr. Huntingdon; the fourth
was a fine-looking man, whom I afterwards knew to be the Premier; the
fifth I recognised as our great chief, the Postmaster-General. It was an
august assemblage to me, and I bowed low; but my head was dizzy, and my
throat parched.

"Mr. Wilcox," said our secretary, "you will tell these gentlemen again,
the circumstances of the loss you reported to me this morning."

I laid my hand upon the back of a chair to steady myself, and went
through the narration for the third time, passing over sundry remarks
made by myself to the young lady. That done, I added the account of my
expedition to Eaton, and the certainty at which I had arrived that my
fellow-traveller was not the person she represented herself to be. After
which, I inquired with indescribable anxiety if Mr. Huntingdon's order
were a forgery?

"I cannot tell, Mr. Wilcox," said that gentleman, taking the order into
his hands, and reg