honour of having Mr. Cartwright's
eye on him. For he trembled violently,
and looked like an old black umbrella with
all its whalebones working in a high wind.

One thing, however, resulted from this
investigation. None of Mr. Cartwright's
negroes had seen anything, none of them
had heard anything, none of them knew
anything, that could shed the smallest light
on the fate of John Ackland.

All Mr. Cartwright's guests were greatly
excited about the events of the previous
evening, especially the ladies.

"We have done all that can be done for
the present, my dear ladies," said Judge
Griffin, "but I regret to say that as yet
we have no clue to this mystery. By the
way, Cartwright, suppose we try Miss
Simpson?"

"Oh, pray, no!" said that young lady;
"you know, I have already been so very
unlucky about poor Mr. Ackland."

"But you can't hurt his feelings now,
my dear, as, unfortunately, he is not here;
and really it is just possible that you may
be able to suggest something."

"Psha!" cried Cartwright, impatiently;
"you don't mean to say you seriously
believe in that nonsense, judge?"

"Nonsense or not, there is no harm in
trying," said the judge, "and you have,
doubtless, some letter of Ackland's that
will do."

"But," said Miss Simpson, "it ought to
be, please, something written very recently,
if possible."

"Stay!" exclaimed Cartwright, "I have
the very thing. I believe it was the last
thing John Ackland wrote in this house.
Anyhow, the writing is not a week old."

"What is it?" said the judge.

"Why, his receipt, to be sure, for the
money I paid him the other day."

Mr. Cartwright appeared to regard this
document as one of peculiar interest. He
insisted on handing it round, and showing
it to every one: remarking at the same
time that "Ackland wrote a bolder hand
than any one could have supposed from the
look of the man." The only person to
whose hands he did not seem particularly
willing to entrust it, was Miss Simpson.
All the party, however, were eager for the
experiment to begin, and that young lady
was much urged to try her magnetic
powers on the document.

"Don't crumple it!" cried Cartwright,
nervously, as she took up the paper somewhat
reluctantly.

Hardly had she touched it, however,
before Miss Simpson's whole frame seemed
to be convulsed by a sharp spasm.

"Take it away!" she cried "take it
away! You have put me in rapport with
a—-."

The rest of this exclamation was
inaudible. But Miss Simpson had fainted. It
was a long time before she was restored to
consciousness; and then she declared that
she had no recollection of anything which
had passed.

"I tell you what it is," said Philip
Cartwright to Judge Griffin that evening,
"this is a very serious business; and we
ought not to be losing time about it. You
must come with me, judge, to Richmond
to-morrow."

"Do you suspect violence or foul play?"
said the judge.

"I don't know," answered Cartwright,
"I don't like the look of it. I believe that
John Ackland when he left Glenoak had a
large sum of money with him. For I had
some talk with him about the possibility of
changing it at the first stage to Charleston.
We ought to lose no time, I think, in
setting the police to work."

Cartwright, accompanied by Judge Griffin,
went to Richmond the next day. And
they did set the police to work. And the
police worked hard for a fortnight, and
made a great many inquiries, and
suggested a great many ingenious hypotheses,
but discovered absolutely nothing.

"All we can do now," said the judge,
"is to send or write to Charleston. But,
meanwhile, don't you think we ought to
communicate with Mr. Ackland's friends in
the north, or relatives, if he has any? Do
you know any of them?"

"Yes," said Cartwright, "I had thought
of that before. But the painful
excitement of our inquiries here during
the last few days had put it out of my
mind. I am not personally acquainted
with any relations of poor Ackland. But
I believe he has a cousin at Boston — a Mr.
Tom Ackland — a lawyer, I think — and I'll
write to him at once. I don't think I can
do any more good here, judge."

"Certainly not," said the judge; "you've
done all that man can do, and more than
any man could have done without the wits
and energy of Philip Cartwright."

"But I'm quite knocked up," said
Cartwright, "and I shall return to Glenoak
tomorrow."

Mr. Philip Cartwright, however, did not
return to Glenoak quite so soon as he said.
For on the evening of that morrow he was