e successful,--as he knew Miss Ashleigh by
sight. His face immediately became thoughtful. He paused a minute or
two, and then said,--

"I think I have it, but I do not like to say; I may pain you, sir."

"Not by confidence; you pain me by concealment."

The man hesitated still: I encouraged him, and then he spoke out
frankly.

"Sir, did you never think it strange that Mr. Margrave should move from
his handsome rooms in the hotel to a somewhat uncomfortable lodging,
from the window of which he could look down on Mrs. Ashleigh's garden? I
have seen him at night in the balcony of that window, and when I noticed
him going so frequently into Mrs. Ashleigh's house during your unjust
detention, I own, sir, I felt for you--"

"Nonsense! Mr. Margrave went to Mrs. Ashleigh's house as my friend. He
has left L---- weeks ago. What has all this to do with--"

"Patience, sir; hear me out. I was sent from L---- to this station (on
promotion, sir) a fortnight since last Friday, for there has been a
good deal of crime hereabouts; it is a bad neighbourhood, and full of
smugglers. Some days ago, in watching quietly near a lonely house, of
which the owner is a suspicious character down in my books, I saw, to my
amazement, Mr. Margrave come out of that house,--come out of a private
door in it, which belongs to a part of the building not inhabited by the
owner, but which used formerly, when the house was a sort of inn, to
be let to night lodgers of the humblest description. I followed him;
he went down to the seashore, walked about, singing to himself; then
returned to the house, and re-entered by the same door. I soon learned
that he lodged in the house,--had lodged there for several days. The
next morning, a fine yacht arrived at a tolerably convenient creek about
a mile from the house, and there anchored. Sailors came ashore, rambling
down to this town. The yacht belonged to Mr. Margrave; he had purchased
it by commission in London. It is stored for a long voyage. He had
directed it to come to him in this out-of-the-way place, where no
gentleman's yacht ever put in before, though the creek or bay is handy
enough for such craft. Well, sir, is it not strange that a rich young
gentleman should come to this unfrequented seashore, put up with
accommodation that must be of the rudest kind, in the house of a man
known as a desperate smuggler, suspected to be worse; order a yacht to
meet him here; is not all this strange? But would it be str