"Then what do you propose doing, sir?"

"To buy my mother's life interest as provided, realize upon the
property, and travel," said Mr. Richard, helping himself to potted
grouse.

"You amaze me, Richard. You confound me. Of course you can
do as you please. But so sudden a determination. The old
house--vases--coins--pictures--scattered--I really--Well, it is your
property, of course--and--and--I wish you a very good morning!"

"I mean to do as I please," soliloquized Rex, as he resumed his
breakfast. "Let him sell his rubbish by auction, and go and live abroad,
in Germany or Jerusalem if he likes, the farther the better for me. I'll
sell the property and make myself scarce. A trip to America will benefit
my health."

A knock at the door made him start.

"Come in! Curse it, how nervous I'm getting. What's that? Letters? Give
them to me; and why the devil don't you put the brandy on the table,
Smithers?"

He drank some of the spirit greedily, and then began to open his
correspondence.

"Cussed brute," said Mr. Smithers, outside the door. "He couldn't use
wuss langwidge if he was a dook, dam 'im!--Yessir," he added, suddenly,
as a roar from his master recalled him.

"When did this come?" asked Mr. Richard, holding out a letter more than
usually disfigured with stampings.

"Lars night, sir. It's bin to 'Amstead, sir, and come down directed with
the h'others." The angry glare of the black eyes induced him to add, "I
'ope there's nothink wrong, sir."

"Nothing, you infernal ass and idiot," burst out Mr. Richard, white with
rage, "except that I should have had this instantly. Can't you see it's
marked urgent? Can you read? Can you spell? There, that will do. No
lies. Get out!"

Left to himself again, Mr. Richard walked hurriedly up and down the
chamber, wiped his forehead, drank a tumbler of brandy, and finally sat
down and re-read the letter. It was short, but terribly to the purpose.

"THE GEORGE HOTEL, PLYMOUTH," 17th April, 1846.

"MY DEAR JACK,--

"I have found you out, you see. Never mind how just at present. I know
all about your proceedings, and unless Mr. Richard Devine receives his
"wife" with due propriety, he'll find himself in the custody of the
police. Telegraph, dear, to Mrs. Richard Devine, at above address.

"Yours as ever, Jack,

"SARAH.

"To Richard Devine, Esq., "North End House, "Hampstead."

The blow was unexpected and severe. It was hard, in the very high tide
and flush of