would assist meditation. His brain could always work more promptly
when a pipe was in his mouth. He therefore went off to prepare this
invaluable companion for the walk which he designed, and was even
filling his pipe, when he was aroused by the entrance of a servant,
who announced that a lady had just arrived, and wished to see him on
very particular business. Saying this, the servant handed him her
card. Obed looked at it, and read the following name:

"_Lady Chetwynde_."

CHAPTER LXXVII.

THE CRYPTOGRAM DECIPHERED.

Hitherto, and up to that last moment just spoken of, this whole
affair had been one long puzzle to Obed, one, too, which was
exceedingly unpleasant and utterly incomprehensible. While Lord
Chetwynde had been pacing the gallery in a fever of agitation, Obed
had been a prey to thoughts less intense and less painful, no doubt,
but yet equally perplexing. He had been summing up in his mind the
general outlines of this grand mystery, and the results were
something like this:

_First_, there was the fact that these three were all old friends,
or, at least, that two of them were equally dear to Mrs. Hart.

_Secondly_, that on the appearance of Mrs. Hart each was unable to
account for the emotion of the other.

_Thirdly_, that Miss Lorton and Windham had been living under assumed
names ever since he had known them.

_Fourthly_, that Miss Lorton and Windham had hitherto been uncommonly
fond of one another's society.

_Fifthly_, that this was not surprising, since Windham had saved Miss
Lorton from a frightful death.

_Sixthly_, what? Why this, that Mrs. Hart had solemnly declared that
Windham was not Wind ham at all, but Guy Molyneux, son of the late
Earl of Chetwynde; and that Miss Lorton was not Miss Lorton, but
Zillah, daughter of Neville Pomeroy, and wife of Lord Chetwynde!

The Earl of Chetwynde! Neville Pomeroy! Did any of these, except Mrs.
Hart, know, did they have the remotest suspicion of the profound
meaning which these names had to Obed Chute? Did they know or
suspect? Know or suspect? Why, they evidently knew nothing, and
suspected nothing! Had they not been warm friends--or something more,
as Obed now began to think--for months, while neither one knew the
other as any thing else than that which was assumed?

It was a puzzle.

It was something that required an uncommon exercise of brain. Such an
exercise demanded also an uncommon stimulus to that brain; and
therefore Obed h