d we're
haccurate;--neither of which is much in your line, Mr. S., if I
understand about it rightly."

"Mr. Bozzle, if you've got anything to tell, tell it," said Trevelyan
angrily.

"A third party is so objectionable," pleaded Bozzle.

"Never mind. That is my affair."

"It is your affair, Mr. Trewillian. There's not a doubt of that. The
lady is your wife."

"Damnation!" shouted Trevelyan.

"But the credit, sir," said Bozzle. "The credit is mine. And here
is Mr. S. has been down a interfering with me, and doing no 'varsal
good, as I'll undertake to prove by evidence before the affair is
over."

"The affair is over," said Stanbury.

"That's as you think, Mr. S. That's where your information goes to,
Mr. S. Mine goes a little beyond that, Mr. S. I've means as you can
know nothing about, Mr. S. I've irons in the fire, what you're as
ignorant on as the babe as isn't born."

"No doubt you have, Mr. Bozzle," said Stanbury.

"I has. And now if it be that I must speak before a third party, Mr.
Trewillian, I'm ready. It ain't that I'm no ways ashamed. I've done
my duty, and knows how to do it. And let a counsel be ever so sharp,
I never yet was so 'posed but what I could stand up and hold my own.
The Colonel, Mr. Trewillian, got,--a letter,--from your lady,--this
morning."

"I don't believe it," said Stanbury, sharply.

"Very likely not, Mr. S. It ain't in my power to say anything
whatever about you believing or not believing. But Mr. T.'s lady
has wrote the letter; and the Colonel,--he has received it. You
don't look after these things, Mr. S. You don't know the ways of
'em. But it's my business. The lady has wrote the letter, and the
Colonel,--why, he has received it." Trevelyan had become white with
rage when Bozzle first mentioned this continued correspondence
between his wife and Colonel Osborne. It never occurred to him to
doubt the correctness of the policeman's information, and he regarded
Stanbury's assertion of incredulity as being simply of a piece with
his general obstinacy in the matter. At this moment he began to
regret that he had called in the assistance of his friend, and that
he had not left the affair altogether in the hands of that much more
satisfactory, but still more painful, agent, Mr. Bozzle. He had again
seated himself, and for a moment or two remained silent on his chair.
"It ain't my fault, Mr. Trewillian," continued Bozzle, "if this
little matter oughtn't never to have been mentione