t."

"But perhaps you can tell me where I could learn that."

"His father is in our office still; no doubt he could tell you."

Now, for obvious reasons, Helen did not like to go to the office; so she
asked faintly if there was nobody else who could tell her.

"I suppose the solicitor could."

"But I don't know who was the solicitor," said Helen, with a sigh.

"Hum!" said the merchant. "Try the bill-broker. I'll give you his
address;" and he wrote it down for her.

Helen did not like to be too importunate, and she could not bear to let
Wardlaw senior know she loved anybody better than his son; and yet some
explanation was necessary. So she told him, as calmly as she could, that
her father and herself were both well acquainted with Robert Penfold, and
knew many things to his credit.

"I am glad to hear that," said Wardlaw; "and I can believe it. He bore an
excellent character here, till, in an evil hour, a strong temptation
came, and he fell."

"What! You think he was guilty?"

"I do. Arthur, I believe, has his doubts still. But he is naturally
prejudiced in his friend's favor. And, besides, he was not at the trial;
I was."

"Thank you, Mr. Wardlaw," said Helen, coldly; and within five minutes she
was on her way home.

"Arthur prejudiced in Robert Penfold's favor!" That puzzled her
extremely.

She put down the whole conversation while her memory was fresh. She added
this comment: "What darkness I am groping in!"

Next day she went to the bill-broker, and told him Mr. Wardlaw senior had
referred her to him for certain information.

Wardlaw's name was evidently a passport. Mr. Adams said obsequiously,
"Anything in the world I can do, madam."

"It is about Mr. Robert Penfold. I wish to know the name of the counsel
he had at his trial."

"Robert Penfold! What, the forger?"

"He was accused of that crime," said Helen, turning red.

"Accused, madam! He was convicted. I ought to know; for it was my partner
he tried the game on. But I was too sharp for him. I had him arrested
before he had time to melt the notes; indicted him, and sent him across
the herring pond, in spite of his parson's coat, the rascal!"

Helen drew back as if a serpent had stung her.

"It was you who had him transported!" cried she, turning her eyes on him
with horror.

"Of course it was me," said Mr. Adams, firing up; "and I did the country
good service. I look upon a forger as worse than a murderer. What is the
matter? You are