Then he compounded with his conscience, and decided that he was right in taking every step possible to solve these doubts, if only to prove the innocence of his wife. He kept repeating to himself that this was the reason which urged him on. "I want to be convinced," he thought again and again, "of my own injustice--it is right that I should endure this self-abasement as a punishment for doubting a woman who is beyond suspicion." Solacing his self-reproaches a little by such arguments and reflections, he had gone to work in earnest to make such discoveries as would drive these harassing doubts away forever. Among other efforts, he had confided to a leading pawnbroker the details of the affair, and it was in him that his hopes principally lay. If the bracelet was not brought to this man's establishment he had means of discovering if it was carried elsewhere. That day Mr. Hollywell had news for him; a bracelet similar to the one he had described, was in the possession of an old Chatham street Jew, and they went together in search of this man. The old Israelite was dreadfully afraid of getting himself into difficulty, but Mr. Hollywell satisfied his fears in regard to that, and assured him that the gentleman would reward him liberally for any disclosures that he might make regarding this particular bracelet. Then it came out that the bracelet had been disposed of for a considerable sum--it was a sale rather than a deposit. The man who brought it there had more than once come to the shop on similar errands; and always pledged valuable ornaments or sold them recklessly for whatever would satisfy the needs of the moment. Mr. Mellen grew more interested when he described the man's appearance; the keen eyes of the money-lender and the sharp sight of the old Jew, accustomed to reading countenances, saw a singular expression of uncertainty rested upon his face, which took a slow, deadly paleness as the identity of this man seemed to strike him. He walked several times up and down the little den where the aged Israelite kept watch, like a bloated spider ready to pounce upon any unwary fly that might venture into his mesh, and at last returned to the place where the two men were standing. "Have you any of that man's writing?" he asked. "Just a scrap--I don't ask to see his name--only a few words in his writing." The old Jew looked doubtful. "Sometimes he has write me, my good sare, but not often, he ish very careful--very careful." "And have you nothing by you?" The old Jew turned to a great desk that filled up one end of the dark room, unlocked a variety of doors and drawers, turned over piles of dirty notes, and at last selected a scrap of paper from among them. "This is his writin'," he said, in a guttural whisper. "I'm taking great trouble, great trouble," he whined; "de good gentleman ought to remember that." "You shall be well rewarded," said Mr. Mellen impatiently, snatching the paper from his hand.