ho knows? He will remember the priest
who confessed him. A present to a religious house may procure--in a
matter of justice, and where none can be prejudiced, for the case is
very special--a dispensation, if he be the very Charles Archer--and he
may--why not?--have disclosed all on his death-bed. First, I shall see
Mr. Dangerfield--then those attorneys; and next make search in Florence;
and, with the aid of whatever I can glean there, and from Irons,
commence in England the intensest scrutiny to which a case was ever yet
subjected.'

Had it not been so late when he found this letter on his return, he
would have gone direct with it to the Brass Castle; but that being quite
out of the question, he read it again and again. It is wonderful how
often a man will spell over and over the same commonplace syllables, if
they happen to touch a subject vitally concerning himself, and what
theories and speculations he will build upon the accidental turn of a
phrase, or the careless dash of a pen.

As we see those wild animals walk their cages in a menagerie, with the
fierce instincts of suppressed action rolling in the vexed eye and
vibrating in every sinew, even so we behold this hero of the flashing
glance and sable locks treading, in high excitement, the floor of the
cedar parlour. Every five minutes a new hope--a new conjecture, and
another scrutiny of the baronet's letter, or of the certificate of
Archer's death, and hour after hour speeding by in the wild chase of
successive chimeras.

While Mr. Justice Lowe's servant was spurring into town at a pace which
made the hollow road resound, and struck red flashes from the stones, up
the river, at the Mills, Mistress Mary Matchwell was celebrating a sort
of orgie. Dirty Davy and she were good friends again. Such friendships
are subject to violent vicissitudes, and theirs had been interrupted by
a difference of opinion, of which the lady had made a note with a brass
candlestick over his eye. Dirty Davy's expressive feature still showed
the green and yellow tints of convalescence. But there are few
philosophers who forgive so frankly as a thorough scoundrel, when it is
his interest to kiss and be friends. The candlestick was not more
innocent of all unpleasant feeling upon the subject than at that moment
was Dirty Davy.

Dirty Davy had brought with him his chief clerk, who was a facetious
personage, and boozy, and on the confidential footing of a common
rascality with his master,