the dog comes."

Once more Mr. Brock's humanity got the better of Mr. Brock's caution. He
determined to wait, and see what the coming days of social intercourse
might bring forth.

The days passed; the yacht was rigged and fitted for sea; a cruise
was arranged to the Welsh coast--and Midwinter the Secret was the same
Midwinter still. Confinement on board a little vessel of five-and-thirty
tons offered no great attraction to a man of Mr. Brock's time of life.
But he sailed on the trial trip of the yacht nevertheless, rather than
trust Allan alone with his new friend.

Would the close companionship of the three on their cruise tempt the
man into talking of his own affairs? No; he was ready enough on other
subjects, especially if Allan led the way to them. But not a word
escaped him about himself. Mr. Brock tried him with questions about
his recent inheritance, and was answered as he had been answered
once already at the Somersetshire inn. It was a curious coincidence,
Midwinter admitted, that Mr. Armadale's prospects and his own prospects
should both have unexpectedly changed for the better about the same
time. But there the resemblance ended. It was no large fortune that
had fallen into his lap, though it was enough for his wants. It had not
reconciled him with his relations, for the money had not come to him as
a matter of kindness, but as a matter of right. As for the circumstance
which had led to his communicating with his family, it was not worth
mentioning, seeing that the temporary renewal of intercourse which had
followed had produced no friendly results. Nothing had come of it but
the money--and, with the money, an anxiety which troubled him sometimes,
when he woke in the small hours of the morning.

At those last words he became suddenly silent, as if for once his
well-guarded tongue had betrayed him.

Mr. Brock seized the opportunity, and bluntly asked him what the nature
of the anxiety might be. Did it relate to money? No; it related to a
Letter which had been waiting for him for many years. Had he received
the letter? Not yet; it had been left under charge of one of the
partners in the firm which had managed the business of his inheritance
for him; the partner had been absent from England; and the letter,
locked up among his own private papers, could not be got at till he
returned. He was expected back toward the latter part of that present
May, and, if Midwinter could be sure where the cruise would tak