he roar of the great city's thunder than when he
vegetates in the dismal outskirts of a manufacturing town. Where am I
to find my octogenarian prosers? and when am I to begin my operations
upon them?" "The sooner you begin the better," replied Mr. Sheldon.
"I've taken all preliminary steps for you already, and you'll find the
business tolerably smooth sailing. I've made a list of certain people
who may be worth seeing."

Mr. Sheldon selected a paper from the numerous documents upon the table.

"Here they are," he said: "John Grewter, wholesale stationer,
Aldersgate-street; Anthony Sparsfield, carver and gilder, in Barbican.
These are, so far as I can ascertain, the two oldest men now trading in
Aldersgate-street; and from these men you ought to be able to find out
something about old Meynell. I don't anticipate any difficulty about
the Meynells, except the possibility that we may find more of them than
we want, and have some trouble in shaking them into their places."

"I'll tackle my friend the stationer to-morrow morning," said Valentine.

"You'd better drop in upon him in the afternoon, when the day's
business may be pretty well over," returned the prudent Sheldon. "And
now all you've got to do, Hawkehurst, is to work with a will, and work
on patiently. If you do as well in London as you did at Ullerton,
neither you nor I will have any cause to complain. Of course I needn't
impress upon you the importance of secrecy."

"No," replied Valentine; "I'm quite alive to that."

He then proceeded to inform George Sheldon of that encounter with
Captain Paget on the platform at Ullerton, and of the suspicion that
had been awakened in his mind by the sight of the glove in Goodge's
parlour.

The lawyer shook his head.

"That idea about the glove was rather far-fetched," he said,
thoughtfully; "but I don't like the look of that meeting at the
station. My brother Philip is capable of anything in the way of
manoeuvring; and I'm not ashamed to confess that I'm no match for him.
He was in here one day when I had the Haygarth pedigree spread out on
the table, and I know he smelt a rat. We must beware of him,
Hawkehurst, and we must work against time if we don't want him to
anticipate us."

"I shan't let the grass grow under my feet," replied Valentine. "I was
really interested in that Haygarthian history: there was a dash of
romance about it, you see. I don't feel the same gusto in the Meynell
chase, but I daresay I shall b