ed him of his misgivings, before she could
speak.

"At last, I have heard from my dearest friend," she said. "You remember
what I told you about Cecilia? Here is a letter--a long delightful
letter--from the Engadine, left at the door by some gentleman unknown. I
was questioning the servant when you rang the bell."

"You may question me, if you prefer it. I arrived just as the gentleman
was shutting your garden gate."

"Oh, tell me! what was he like?"

"Tall, and thin, and dark. Wore a vile republican-looking felt hat.
Had nasty ill-tempered wrinkles between his eyebrows. The sort of man I
distrust by instinct."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't shave."

"Do you mean that he wore a beard?"

"Yes; a curly black beard."

Emily clasped her hands in amazement. "Can it be Alban Morris?" she
exclaimed.

The doctor looked at her with a sardonic smile; he thought it likely
that he had discovered her sweetheart.

"Who is Mr. Alban Morris?" he asked.

"The drawing-master at Miss Ladd's school."

Doctor Allday dropped the subject: masters at ladies' schools were not
persons who interested him. He returned to the purpose which had brought
him to the cottage--and produced the Handbill that had been sent to him
in Emily's letter.

"I suppose you want to have it back again?" he said.

She took it from him, and looked at it with interest.

"Isn't it strange," she suggested, "that the murderer should have
escaped, with such a careful description of him as this circulated all
over England?"

She read the description to the doctor.

"'Name not known. Supposed age, between twenty-five and thirty years.
A well-made man, of small stature. Fair complexion, delicate features,
clear blue eyes. Hair light, and cut rather short. Clean shaven, with
the exception of narrow half-whiskers. Small, white, well-shaped hands.
Wore valuable rings on the two last fingers of the left hand. Dressed
neatly--'"

"That part of the description is useless," the doctor remarked; "he
would change his clothes."

"But could he change his voice?" Emily objected. "Listen to this:
'Remarkably good voice, smooth, full, and persuasive.' And here
again! 'Ingratiating manners.' Perhaps you will say he could put on an
appearance of rudeness?"

"I will say this, my dear. He would be able to disguise himself so
effectually that ninety-nine people out of a hundred would fail to
identify him, either by his voice or his manner."

"How?"

"Look back at