as he disapproved of the old misanthrope's
principles, he was willing to set aside his
own antipathies and objections to serve the
interests of his young friends; and he
expressed his perfect readiness, if Rosamond
and her husband approved of the proceeding,
to write and recal himself to Andrew's
recollection, and to ask, as if it was a matter of
antiquarian curiosity, for information on the
subject of the north side of Porthgenna
Tower, including, of course, a special request
to be made acquainted with the names by
which the rooms had been individually known
in former days.

In making this offer, the vicar frankly
acknowledged that he thought the chances
were very much against his receiving any
answer at all to his application, no matter
how carefully he might word it, with a
view to humouring Andrew's churlish
peculiarities. However, considering that, in the
present posture of affairs, a forlorn hope was
better than no hope at all, he thought it was
at least worth while to make the attempt, on
the plan which he had just suggested. If
Mr. and Mrs. Frankland could devise any
better means of opening communications with
Andrew Treverton, or if they had discovered
any new method of their own for obtaining
the information of which they stood in need,
Doctor Chennery was perfectly ready to set
aside his own opinions and to defer to theirs.
In any case, he could only conclude by
begging them to remember that he considered
their interests as his own, and that all the
service he could render them was cheerfully
and heartily placed at their disposal.

A very brief consideration of the vicar's
friendly letter convinced Rosamond and her
husband that they had no choice but gratefully
to accept the offer which it contained.
The chances were certainly against the
success of the proposed application; but were
they more unfavourable than the chances
against the success of any unaided
investigations at Porthgenna? There was, at least,
a faint hope of Doctor Chennery's request
for information producing some results;
but there seemed no hope at all of
penetrating a mystery connected with one room
only, by dint of wandering blindly through
two ranges of rooms which reached the
number of sixteen. Influenced by these
considerations, Rosamond wrote back to the
vicar to thank him for his kindness, and to
beg that he would communicate with Andrew
Treverton, as he had proposed, without a
moment's delay.

Doctor Chennery immediately occupied
himself in the composition of the important
letter, taking care to make the application
on purely antiquarian grounds, and accounting
for his assumed curiosity on the subject
of the interior of Porthgenna Tower, by
referring to his former knowledge of the
Treverton family, and to his natural interest
in the old house with which their name and
fortunes had been so closely connected. After
appealing to Andrew's early recollections for
the information that he wanted, he ventured
a step farther, and alluded to the library of
old books, mentioning his own idea that there
might be found among them some plan or
verbal description of the house, which might
prove to be of the greatest service, in the
event of Mr. Treverton's memory not having
preserved all particulars in connection with
the names and positions of the north rooms.
In conclusion, he took the liberty of mentioning
that the loan of any document of the kind
to which he had alluded, or the permission
to have extracts made from it, would be
thankfully acknowledged as a great favour
conferred; and he added, in a postscript, that,
in order to save Mr. Treverton all trouble, a
messenger would call for any answer he might
be disposed to give, the day after the delivery
of the letter. Having completed the application
in these terms, the vicar (with many
secret misgivings as to results) inclosed it
under cover to his man of business in London,
with directions that it was to be delivered by
a trustworthy person, and that the messenger
was to call again the next morning to know
if there was any answer.

Three days after this letter had been
despatched to its destination—at which time
no tidings of any sort had been received
from Doctor Chennery—Rosamond at last
obtained her medical attendant's permission
to travel. Taking leave of Mr. Orridge
with many promises to let him know what
progress they made towards discovering the
position of the Myrtle Room, Mr. and
Mrs. Frankland turned their backs on West
Winston, and, for the third time, started on
the journey to Porthgenna Tower.

CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH. THE BEGINNING
OF THE END.

IT was baking-day in the establishment of
Mr. Andrew Treverton, when the messenger
intrusted with Doctor Chennery's letter
found his way to the garden-door of the
cottage at Bayswater. After he had rung
three times, he heard a gruff voice, on the
other side of the wall, roaring at him to let
the bell alone, and asking who he was, and
what the devil he wanted.

"A letter for Mr. Treverton," said the
messenger, nervously backing away from the
door while he spoke.

"Chuck it over the wall then, and be off
with you!" answered the gruff voice.

The messenger obeyed both injunctions.
He was a meek, modest, elderly man; and
when Nature mixed up the ingredients of his
disposition, the capability of resenting injuries
was not among them.

The man with the gruff voice—or, to put
it in plainer terms, the man Shrowl—picked
up the letter, weighed it in his hand, looked
at the address on it with an expression of
contemptuous curiosity in his bull-terrier's