of age, when certain deeds were necessary before he
could legally take possession of the property. These deeds Mr. S----
(the family lawyer) stated had been given up by him into the missing
gentleman's keeping just before the last mysterious journey to London,
with which I think they were in some way concerned. It was possible that
they were still in existence; some one in London might have them in
possession, and be either conscious or unconscious of their importance.
At any rate, Mr. S----'s advice to his client was that he should put an
advertisement in the London papers, worded so skilfully that any one
who might hold the important documents should understand to what it
referred, and no one else. This was accordingly done; and although
repeated at intervals for some time, it met with no success. But at
last a mysterious answer was sent; to the effect that the deeds were in
existence, and should be given up; but only on certain conditions, and
to the heir himself. The young man, in consequence, went up to London,
and adjourned, according to directions, to an old house in Barbican,
where he was told by a man, apparently awaiting him, that he must submit
to be blindfolded, and must follow his guidance. He was taken through
several long passages before he left the house; at the termination of
one of these he was put into a sedan-chair, and carried about for an
hour or more; he always reported that there were many turnings, and that
he imagined he was set down finally not very far from his starting
point.

When his eyes were unbandaged, he was in a decent sitting-room, with
tokens of family occupation lying about. A middle-aged gentleman
entered, and told him that, until a certain time had elapsed (which
should be indicated to him in a particular way, but of which the length
was not then named), he must swear to secrecy as to the means by which
he obtained possession of the deeds. This oath was taken; and then the
gentleman, not without some emotion, acknowledged himself to be the
missing father of the heir. It seems that he had fallen in love with a
damsel, a friend of the person with whom he lodged. To this young woman
he had represented himself as unmarried; she listened willingly to his
wooing, and her father, who was a shopkeeper in the City, was not averse
to the match, as the Lancashire squire had a goodly presence, and many
similar qualities, which the shopkeeper thought might be acceptable to
his customers. The