nt-up emotions--shame and indignation, bitter grief
and despair, a sense of everlasting disgrace. One moment he doubted;
the next the damning truth overwhelmed him and defied denial.

"I can't believe it!" he muttered hoarsely. "It is too terrible! How
blindly I trusted that boy! I heard rumors about him, and turned a deaf
ear to them. I knew he was inclined to be dissolute and extravagant, but
I never dreamed of this! To drag the name of Chesney in the dirt! My
nephew a liar and a traitor, a scoundrel of the blackest dye to a
confiding friend, a seducer, a tout for money-lenders, a consort of
blood-sucking Jews! By heavens, I will confront him and hear the truth
from his own lips! How do I know that this letter is not a forgery?
Perhaps young Drexell never saw it."

It was a slim ray of hope, but Sir Lucius took some comfort from it. He
put on his hat, took his stick, and marched down stairs. As he passed
through the office, a clerk handed him a letter that had just been
brought in. He waited until he was outside to open it, and with the
utmost amazement he read the contents:

"Pentonville Prison.

"My Dear Sir Lucius--I see by the papers that you are in town
temporarily, so I address you at Morley's instead of Priory Court. A very
curious thing has happened. A few days ago a prisoner who was arrested
for a breach of the police-supervision rules, but who was really wanted
for a much more serious affair, was put in my charge. This man, Noah
Hawker by name, sent for me and made a secret communication. He stated
that in his room in Kentish Town, where he was arrested, he had hidden
some papers of the greatest importance to yourself. He told me how to
find them, and yesterday I got them and brought them here. They are in a
sealed parcel, and the prisoner begs that they shall not be opened except
in your presence, as he wishes to tell you the whole story. So I thought
it best to send for you, and if convenient I should like to see you about
noon to-day. I am posting this early in the morning, and hope you will
receive it in good time.

"Sincerely your old friend,

"Major Hugh Wyatt."

"I don't understand it," thought Sir Lucius. "It is certainly most
perplexing. What can it mean? I haven't seen Wyatt for years, but I
remember now that he was appointed Governor of Pentonville some time
ago. But who the deuce is the man Hawker? I never heard the name. Papers
of importance to me? What could they be, and how did the fel