ing that
they knew nothing. At the police-office they looked at him hard, and
demanded what he wanted with anybody of the name of Forrester. At the
post-office they told him curtly they could not tell him anything unless
he could give the old lady's address.

At length, late in the day, he ventured to knock at the door of the
clergyman of that part of the town in which the only few residents'
houses seemed to be, and to repeat his question there.

The clergyman, a hard-working man who visited a hundred families in a
week, at first returned the same answer as everybody else. No, he did
not know any one of that name.

"Stay," he said; "perhaps you mean old Mrs Wilcox."

Jeffreys groaned. Everybody had been suggesting the name of some old
lady to him different from the one he wanted.

"She had a nephew, I think, who was a cripple. The poor fellow had had
an accident at school, so I heard. I almost think he died. I never saw
him myself, but if you come with me, I'll take you to the Wesleyan
minister. I think he knows Mrs Wilcox."

Thankful for any clue, however slight, Jeffreys accompanied the good man
to the Wesleyan minister.

"Mrs Wilcox--ah, yes," said the latter, when his brother pastor had
explained their errand. "She died in Torquay five months ago. She was
a great sufferer."

"And her nephew?" inquired the clergyman.

"Her grandson, you mean."

Jeffreys' heart leapt. "What was his name?" he asked, excitedly.

"Forrester; a dear young fellow he was. His mother, who died out in
India, was Mrs Wilcox's only daughter. Yes, poor Gerard Forrester was
brought home from school about six months ago terribly crippled by an
accident. It was said one of his school-fellows had--"

"But where is he now? tell me, for mercy's sake!" exclaimed Jeffreys.

"I cannot tell you that," replied the minister. "His grandmother was
ordered to Torquay almost as soon as he arrived home. He remained here
about a month in charge of his old nurse; and then--"

"He's not dead!" almost shouted Jeffreys.

"Then," continued the minister, "when the news came of his grandmother's
death, they left Grangerham. From all I can hear, Mrs Wilcox died very
poor. I believe the nurse intended to try to get him taken into a
hospital somewhere; but where or how I never knew. I was away in London
when they disappeared, and have never heard of them since."

"Isn't his father alive?"

"Yes. I wrote to him by Mrs Wilcox's reque