ir, to form a correct opinion."

"And who is to do that?" the banker asked.

"I can but try, sir," was the modest reply, "if you see no objection to
my making the attempt."

Sir Giles approved of the proposed experiment, silently and
satirically, by a bend of his head.

Too discreet a man to make a suspiciously ready use of the information
which he had privately obtained, Dennis took care that his first
attempt should not be successful. After modestly asking permission to
try again, he ventured on the second occasion to arrive at a happy
discovery. Lifting the perforated paper, he placed it delicately over
the page which contained the unintelligible writing. Words and
sentences now appeared (through the holes in the paper) in their right
spelling and arrangement, and addressed Sir Giles in these terms:

"I beg to thank you, sir, for complying with my conditions. You have
satisfied me of your good faith. At the same time, it is possible that
you may hesitate to trust a man who is not yet able to admit you to his
confidence. The perilous position in which I stand obliges me to ask
for two or three days more of delay, before I can safely make an
appointment with you. Pray be patient--and on no account apply for
advice or protection to the police."

"Those last words," Sir Giles declared, "are conclusive! The sooner I
am under the care of the law the better. Take my card to the
police-office."

"May I say a word first, sir?"

"Do you mean that you don't agree with me?"

"I mean that."

"You were always an obstinate man Dennis; and it grows on you as you
get older. Never mind! Let's have it out. Who do _you_ say is the
person pointed at in these rascally letters?"

The head clerk took up the first letter of the two and pointed to the
opening sentence: "Sir Giles Mountjoy, I have a disclosure to make in
which one of the members of your family is seriously interested."
Dennis emphatically repeated the words: "one of the members of your
family." His employer regarded him with a broad stare of astonishment.

"One of the members of my family?" Sir Giles repeated, on his side.
"Why, man alive, what are you thinking of? I'm an old bachelor, and I
haven't got a family."

"There is your brother, sir."

"My brother is in France--out of the way of the wretches who are
threatening me. I wish I was with him!"

"There are your brother's two sons, Sir Giles."

"Well? And what is there to be afraid of? My nephew, Hugh,