ared intention of meeting and accompanying
him home. He arrived in that town in the evening; and having previously
learned that Doctor Danvers had been for some time in Chester, he at once
sought him at his usual lodgings, and found the worthy old gentleman at
his solitary "dish" of tea.

"My dear Charles," said he, greeting his young friend with earnest
warmth, "I am rejoiced beyond measure to see you. Your father is in town,
as you supposed; and I have just had a note from him, which has, I
confess, not a little agitated me, referring, as it does, to a subject of
painful and horrible interest; one with which, I suppose, you are
familiar, but upon which I myself have never yet spoken fully to any
person, excepting your father only."

"And pray, my dear sir, what is this topic?" inquired Charles, with
marked interest.

"Read this note," answered the clergyman, placing one at the same time in
his young visitor's hand.

Charles read as follows:

"My Dear Sir,

"I have a singular communication to make to you, but in the strictest
privacy, with reference to a subject which, merely to name, is to awaken
feelings of doubt and horror; I mean the confession of Merton, with
respect to the murder of Wynston Berkley. I will call upon you this
evening after dark; for I have certain reasons for not caring to meet old
acquaintances about town; and if you can afford me half an hour, I
promise to complete my intended disclosure within that time. Let us be
strictly private; this is my only proviso.

"Yours with much respect,

"Richard Marston"

"Your father has been sorely troubled in mind," said Doctor Danvers, as
soon as the young man had read this communication; "he has told me as
much; it may be that the discovery he has now made may possibly have
relieved him from certain galling anxieties. The fear that unjust
suspicion should light upon himself, or those connected with him, has, I
dare say, tormented him sorely. God grant, that as the providential
unfolding of all the details of this mysterious crime comes about, he
maybe brought to recognize, in the just and terrible process, the hand of
heaven. God grant, that at last his heart may be softened, and his spirit
illuminated by the blessed influence he has so long and so sternly
rejected."

As the old man thus spake--as if in symbolic answering to his prayer--a
sudden glory from the setting sun streamed through the funereal pile of
clouds which filled the western hori