in its proper place--behind--the train bore Richard onward to
his goal.

Just before nearing Paddington Station, Trevor took out his pocket-book,
and the rugged, hard look upon his face was softened. He glanced round
the compartment, to see that half his fellow-passengers were asleep, the
soldier drunk, the stout old lady with the bundles busy hunting for her
railway ticket, and the sailor disconsolately trying to drain a little
more rum out of his bottle.

By this time Trevor had grown weary of the long journey--so tedious on
the hard third-class seats--in spite of his determination; and a sigh
would once or twice escape, as recollections of his old first-class
luxury intruded.

"I'll hold to it, though," he muttered.

And, determined to go on in his course, he opened his pocket-book, and
drew from it a letter which he had received from Tolcarne. It was not
long, but it sent the blood dancing through his veins, and nerved him
for the fight to come. It ran as follows:--

"Dearest Dick--What shall I say to you in this your great trouble?
Can I say more than that I would give anything to be by your side, to
try and advise--at all events, to try and help and comfort? Papa was
very angry when your letter came, and read it to Aunt Matty; but let
that pass, as I tell you only, Dick, that you have a friend in dear
mamma, who stood up for you as nobly as did darling little Fin, who
had been in unaccountably low spirits before. I tried so hard, Dick,
to come to you--to answer your letter and scold you; but they would
not let me stir. I dare not tell you what they said; you must guess
when I tell you that I was a dreadfully disobedient child, and Aunt
Matty declared that no good could ever come to a girl who set herself
up in opposition to her father and aunt. Poor dear mamma was left out
of it altogether. I say all this, Dick, for fear you should think I
fell away from you in your trouble, and would not come to you as you
wished; but my heart was with you all the time. And now, Dick,
darling, to be more matter-of-fact, what is all this to us? You could
not help it; and whether you are Richard Trevor or Richard Lloyd by
name, how does it alter you in the eyes of her to whom you said so
much? Dick, you don't know me, or you would never have sent me that
cruel letter, so full of your dreadful determination. Oh, Dick, do
you think--can you think--I wish to be free? You tau