advancing night. Not since that other evening,
many many years ago, when, after my trial, I found myself face to face
with ruin or death and was saved by Stephen Strong had my fortunes been
at so low an ebb. Now, indeed, they appeared absolutely hopeless, for I
was no longer young and fit to begin the world afresh; also, the
other party being in power, I could not hope to obtain any salaried
appointment upon which to support myself and my daughter. If Mrs. Strong
had kept her reason all would have been well, but she was insane, and I
had no one to whom I could turn, for I was a man of many acquaintances
but few friends.

Wearily I trudged back to my rooms to wait there until it was time to
dress, for I had a dinner engagement at the Reform Club. On the table in
the little hall lay a telegram, which I opened listlessly. It was from a
well-known firm of solicitors in Dunchester, and ran:--

"Our client, Mrs. Strong, died suddenly at three o'clock. Important that
we should see you. Will you be in Dunchester to-morrow? If not, please
say where and at what hour we can wait upon you in town."

"Wait upon you in town," I said to myself as I laid down the telegram. A
great firm of solicitors would not wish to wait upon me unless they had
something to tell me to my advantage and their own. Mrs. Strong must
have left me some money. Possibly even I was her heir. More than once
before in life my luck had turned in this sudden way, why should it not
happen again? But she was insane and could not appoint an heir! Why had
not those fools of lawyers told me the facts instead of leaving me to
the torment of this suspense?

I glanced at the clock, then taking a telegraph form I wrote: "Shall be
at Dunchester Station 8:30. Meet me there or later at the club." Taking
a cab I drove to St. Pancras, just in time to catch the train. In my
pocket--so closely was I pressed for money, for my account at the bank
was actually overdrawn--I had barely enough to pay for a third-class
ticket to Dunchester. This mattered little, however, for I always
travelled third-class, not because I liked it but because it looked
democratic and the right sort of thing for a Radical M.P. to do.

The train was a fast one, but that journey seemed absolutely endless.
Now at length we had slowed down at the Dunchester signal-box, and now
we were running into the town. If my friend the lawyer had anything
really striking to tell me he would send to meet me at the