re right; but, first, let me ask you, how do
you know of your uncle's death; for I have reason to doubt it?"

"From Guy; he told me himself."

"When did you see him, and where?"

"Why, I have just told you; I saw him last night at the Salon."

"And you could not be mistaken?"

"Impossible! Besides, he wrote to me a note which I received this
morning--here it is."

"Hem--ha. Well, are you satisfied that this is his handwriting?" said
Trevanion, as he perused the note slowly twice over.

"Why, of course--but stop--you are right; it is not his hand, nor do I
know the writing, now that you direct my attention to it. But what can
that mean? You, surely, do not suppose that I have mistaken any one for
him; for, independent of all else, his knowledge of my family, and my
uncle's affairs, would quite disprove that."

"This is really a complex affair," said Trevanion, musingly. "How long
may it be since you saw your cousin--before last night, I mean?"

"Several years; above six, certainly."

"Oh, it is quite possible, then," said Trevanion, musingly; "do you know,
Mr. Lorrequer, this affair seems much more puzzling to me than to you,
and for this plain reason--I am disposed to think you never saw your
cousin last night."

"Why, confound it, there is one circumstance that I think may satisfy you
on that head. You will not deny that I saw some one, who very much
resembled him; and certainly, as he lent me above three thousand franks
to play with at the table, it looks rather more like his act than that of
a perfect stranger."

"Have you got the money?" asked Trevanion dryly.

"Yes," said I; "but certainly you are the most unbelieving of mortals,
and I am quite happy that I have yet in my possession two of the billets
de banque, for, I suppose, without them, you would scarcely credit me."
I here opened my pocket-book, and produced the notes.

He took them, examined them attentively for an instant, held them between
him and the light, refolded them, and, having placed them in my
pocket-book, said--"I thought as much--they are forgeries."

"Hold!" said I, "my cousin Guy, whatever wildness he may have committed,
is yet totally incapable of--"

"I never said the contrary, replied Trevanion, in the same dry tone as
before.

"Then what can you mean, for I see no alternative between that and
totally discrediting the evidence of my senses?"

"Perhaps I can suggest a middle course," said Trevanion; "lend me,
the