swore at Robert Penfold's trial that he never wrote
that forged note."

"I remember," said Burt.

"The other day this lady instructed me to discover, if I could, who did
write the forged note. But, unfortunately, the materials she gave me were
not sufficient. But, last night, a young man dropped from the clouds,
that I made sure was an agent of yours, Miss Rolleston. Under that
impression I was rather unguarded, and I let him know how far we had got,
and could get no further. 'I think I can help you,' says this young man,
and puts a letter on the table. Well, Mr. Burt, a glance at that letter
was enough for me. It was written by the man who forged the note."

"A letter!" said Helen.

"Yes. I'll put the letter by the side of the forged note; and, if you
have any eye for writing at all, you'll see at once that one hand wrote
the forged note and this letter. I am also prepared to swear that the
letters signed Hand are forgeries by the same person." He then coolly put
upon the table the letter from Arthur Wardlaw that Helen had received on
board the _Proserpine,_ and was proceeding to point out the many points
of resemblance between the letter and the document, when he was
interrupted by a scream from Helen.

"Ah!" she cried, "he is here. Only one man in the world could have
brought that letter. I left it on the island. Robert is here. He gave you
that letter."

"You are right," said the expert, "and what a fool I must be! I have no
eye except for handwriting. He had a beard; and such a beard!"

"It is Robert!" cried Helen, in raptures. "He is come just in time."

"In time to be arrested," said Burt. "Why, his time is not out. He'll get
into trouble again."

"Oh, Heaven forbid!" cried Helen, and turned so faint she had to be laid
back on a chair, and salts applied to her nostrils.

She soon came to, and cried and trembled, but prepared to defend her
Robert with all a woman's wit. Burt and Undercliff were conversing in a
low voice, and Burt was saying he felt sure Wardlaw's spies had detected
Robert Penfold, and that Robert would be arrested and put into prison as
a runaway convict. "Go to Scotland Yard this minute, Mr. Burt," said
Helen, eagerly.

"What for?"

"Why, you must take the commission to arrest him. You are our friend."

Burt slapped his thigh with delight.

"That is first-rate, miss," said he. "I'll take the real felon, first,
you may depend. Now, Mr. Undercliff, write your report, and hand it to