e, I recalled
myself to Mrs. Greyle here, whom I had known many years ago, and I walked
back to this house with her and her charming daughter, and--don't be
angry, Mrs. Greyle--while the mother's back was turned--on hospitable
thoughts intent--I got the daughter to lend me--secretly--a letter
written by the present Squire of Scarhaven. Armed with that, I went home
to my lodgings in Norcaster, found the letter written by the American
Marston Greyle, and compared it with them. And--here is the result!"

The old actor selected the two American letters from his papers, laid
them out on the table, and placed the letter which Audrey had given him
beside them.

"Now!" he said, as his three companions bent eagerly over these exhibits,
"Look at those three letters. All bear the same signature, Marston
Greyle--but the hand-writing of those two is as different from that of
this one as chalk is from cheese!"

CHAPTER XIV

BY PRIVATE TREATY

There was little need for the three deeply interested listeners to look
long at the letters--one glance was sufficient to show even a careless
eye that the hand which had written one of them had certainly not written
the other two. The letter which Audrey had handed to Mr. Dennie was
penned in the style commonly known as commercial--plain, commonplace,
utterly lacking in the characteristics which are supposed to denote
imagination and a sense of artistry. It was the sort of caligraphy which
one comes across every day in shops and offices and banks--there was
nothing in any upstroke, downstroke or letter which lifted it from the
very ordinary. But the other two letters were evidently written by a man
of literary and artistic sense, possessing imagination and a liking for
effect. It needed no expert in handwriting to declare that two totally
different individuals had written those letters.

"And now," observed Mr. Dennie, breaking the silence and putting into
words what each of the others was vaguely feeling, "the question is--what
does all this mean? To start with, Marston Greyle is a most uncommon
name. Is it possible there can be two persons of that name? That, at any
rate, is the first thing that strikes me."

"It is not the first thing that strikes me," said Mrs. Greyle. She took
up the typescript which the old actor had brought in his packet, and held
its title-page significantly before him. "That is the first thing that
strikes me!" she exclaimed. "The Marston Greyle who sen