of opening the cartridge paper in which
it was folded, when he stopped and snatched up the tape to which the
sealing-wax adhered.

There were three seals, two the coarse splotches of common wax used by
postal authorities; the other was fine and had been sealed with arms and
crest, but a drop from the coarse postal wax had half covered it and
Chester could make nothing of the sender.

The box within was fastened down with brads, and he forced it open with
some curiosity, to find a heavy packet of what seemed to be short, thick
pieces of pipe, and with a vague idea that they were connected with some
surgical instrument sent to him from the maker on trial, he pushed it
aside impatiently, and threw himself back in his chair.

The next minute the thought occurred to him that a surgical instrument
maker would not seal the packet with armorial bearings, and he would
have sent some communication, so, catching up the box, he drew out the
carefully-done-up packet within, tore it open, and then let his hands
fall on the table, for the contents were rouleaux of sovereigns, all
bright and fresh from the mint, the number written upon the packet--"210
pounds." Two hundred guineas--the fee promised to him for his services.

"Gentlemanly and honourable in this, after all," he said to himself; and
he eagerly searched the papers to see if there was a note.

None, and with an ejaculation of disappointment he unlocked the table
drawer, thrust in the rouleaux, locked them up, and then caught up the
pieces of green tape again, to examine the blurred red seal.

"Eureka!" he muttered; "then here is the clue." He carefully cut off
the seal and placed it in his pocket-book, after satisfying himself that
the crest over the shield of armorial bearings was a mailed arm bent,
the elbow only being clear. With this to guide him, he went to a
book-case, and took down a Peerage, in the faint hope of finding the
arms of some great family there; and he was still vainly searching when
the servant knocked at the door to tell him that breakfast was ready.

Laura and his aunt were waiting in the dining-room, and their salute was
a formal "Good-morning," after which the breakfast was partaken of in
silence, and he rose to go back to his room.

"Will you see your patients this morning, Frederick?" said his aunt, as
he reached the door.

He looked back at her sharply, and then glanced at his sister, who was
watching him too.

"No," he said sharply.