of the Old Country. In England the letter had been penned, in
England it had been posted, from England it had come to him. Yet who on
earth had business affairs to communicate to him!

He broke the seal.

Amazement fell upon him with the first words he read. By the end of the
perusal his brain was whirling. It was incredible, astounding. He stared
out into the sunshine. Surely he was dreaming. It must be a joke of
sorts, a laughable hoax. Yet there was no hint of joking in the concise
communication, in the small clerkly handwriting, in the business-like
letter-paper, a letter-paper headed by the name of a most respectable
firm of solicitors.

"Well, I'm jiggered," declared Antony to the sunshine. And he fell to a
second perusal of the letter. Here is what he read:

"Dear Sir,

"We beg to inform you that under the terms of the will of the late Mr.
Nicholas Danver of Chorley Old Hall, Byestry, in the County of Devon, you
are left sole legatee of his estate and personal effects estimated at an
income of some twelve thousand pounds per annum, subject, however, to
certain conditions, which are to be communicated verbally to you by us.

"In order that you may be enabled to hear the conditions without undue
inconvenience to yourself, we have been authorized to defray any expenses
you may incur either directly or indirectly through your journey to
England, and--should you so desire--your return journey. We enclose
herewith cheque for one hundred pounds on account.

"As the property is yours only upon conditions, we must beg that you will
make no mention of this communication to any person whatsoever until such
time as you have been made acquainted with the said conditions. We should
be obliged if you would cable to us your decision whether or no you
intend to hear them, and--should the answer be in the affirmative--the
approximate date we may expect you in England.

"Yours obediently,
"Henry Parsons."

And the paper was headed, Parsons & Glieve, Solicitors.

Nicholas Danver. Where had he heard that name before? What faint cord of
memory did it strike? He sought in vain for the answer. Yet somehow, at
sometime, surely he had heard it! Again and again he seemed on the verge
of discovering the clue, and again and again it escaped him, slipping
elusive from him. It was tantalizing, annoying. With a slight mental
eff