Presently Evan came in with Charley on his shoulders, having been engaged in a game of romps with him in the next room. “Evan, will you take out all the scraps and burn them, and tell Hannah she can lay the cloth.” Evan gathered up the fragments, and left the room. In about five minutes he returned with a serious face, and with an envelope in his hand. “What is it, Evan?” “Please, sir, I was dropping the pieces one by one into the kitchen fire, when I see this envelope.” “Yes, Evan, and what is there peculiar about that envelope?” Frank asked, amused, for the lad looked so unnaturally serious that he could hardly help smiling. “Please, sir, there’s a seal on it.” “Yes, Evan, it’s unbroken. Do you remember, Katie, my tearing the letter open so as to show you the seal?” “Yes, Frank, I remember it quite well.” “Please, sir, isn’t the seal a hand?” “Yes, Evan, it’s a hand.” “But it’s only three fingers, hasn’t it, sir?” “Yes, Evan, it has only three fingers; it’s a crest, but what is there curious in that?” “Well, sir, it’s curious because I never saw a hand with three fingers on before; but I’ve heard mother say that Brother James, you know, sir, him as is a cripple, when his mother died she had a seal round her neck with only three fingers.” “God bless me, Evan, that is very curious, very,” Frank said, very interested. “If this should only turn out as I think, by Jove, Katie, it would put that little blackguard’s nose out of joint, and no mistake.” “What do you mean, Frank? I don’t know what you are talking about.” “I will tell you, dear. Let me see, Evan, how old is James now?” “He’s rather better than twenty, sir.” “Just so, Katie. Of course it may not be so, but if it is not it’s a curious coincidence. You’ve heard me say that Captain Bradshaw had a daughter who married and ran away from home, and that uncle never heard of her till he heard she was dead, and had died in great want.” “Yes; I remember, Frank.” “Well, Katie, as nearly as I can tell that is about twenty-one years ago. Now it is really possible that this poor woman who died at the Holls was her, and that this is her son, whom Captain Bradshaw has never known was alive. A three-fingered hand is not a common crest. I will write to Prescott at once, and ask him to go into the affair. Oh Katie, if it should turn out so, it will be glorious! Of course my uncle will leave him a part anyhow of his estate. By Jove I can forgive uncle having sent back my letter unanswered, if it is the means of finding his grandson and doing Fred Bingham out of part of the fortune.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VI STRANGE TIDINGS. Arthur Prescott was one day surprised at the receipt of the following letter from Frank Maynard:— “MY DEAR OLD PRESCOTT,