he
lie direct, in my name. Put it in capital letters, Pedgift--put it in
capital letters!"

Pedgift smiled and shook his head. If he was acquainted with no other
variety of human nature, he thoroughly knew the variety that exists in
country towns.

"It won't have the least effect on them, Mr. Armadale," he remarked
quietly. "They'll only go on lying harder than ever. If you want to
upset the whole town, one line will do it. With five shillings' worth of
human labor and electric fluid, sir (I dabble a little in science
after business hours), we'll explode a bombshell in Thorpe Ambrose!"
He produced the bombshell on a slip of paper as he spoke: "A. Pedgift,
Junior, to A. Pedgift, Senior.--Spread it all over the place that Mr.
Armadale is coming down by the next train."

"More words!" suggested Allan, looking over his shoulder. "Make it
stronger."

"Leave my father to make it stronger, sir," returned the wary Pedgift.
"My father is on the spot, and his command of language is something
quite extraordinary." He rang the bell, and dispatched the telegram.

Now that something had been done, Allan subsided gradually into a state
of composure. He looked back again at Mr. Pedgift's letter, and then
handed it to Mr. Pedgift's son.

"Can you guess your father's plan for setting me right in the
neighborhood?" he asked.

Pedgift the younger shook his wise head. "His plan appears to be
connected in some way, sir, with his opinion of Miss Gwilt."

"I wonder what he thinks of her?" said Allan.

"I shouldn't be surprised, Mr. Armadale," returned Pedgift Junior, "if
his opinion staggers you a little, when you come to hear it. My father
has had a large legal experience of the shady side of the sex, and he
learned his profession at the Old Bailey."

Allan made no further inquiries. He seemed to shrink from pursuing the
subject, after having started it himself. "Let's be doing something to
kill the time," he said. "Let's pack up and pay the bill."

They packed up and paid the bill. The hour came, and the train left for
Norfolk at last.

While the travelers were on their way back, a somewhat longer
telegraphic message than Allan's was flashing its way past them along
the wires, in the reverse direction--from Thorpe Ambrose to London. The
message was in cipher, and, the signs being interpreted, it ran thus:
"From Lydia Gwilt to Maria Oldershaw.--Good news! He is coming back. I
mean to have an interview with him. Everything look