“Oh, we can do a great deal more, my lord,” observed Wrench; “but you must acknowledge that I am furnished with such slender material, and then there’s the lapse of time, and many other things against us.” “Admitted――still you do not give up all hope.” “Well, no, I’m not accustomed to do that. I am glad we have met, my lord, for many reasons――you will, I am sure, pardon me if I am plain-spoken.” “Certainly, speak as openly and frankiy as possible. I desire you to do so. Up to the present time I am free to confess we have been baffled.” “I have done all that man could do, but my efforts have not as yet been crowned with success; I expect you to give me all the information you can.” “Certainly, that is but a just and reasonable request.” “You will not be offended, therefore, if I inquire about one or two little matters? Just tell me if you have any of your daughter’s letters, which she might probably have sent here after her departure?” “I have never seen any of them,” said Lord Ethalwood. “That’s most important――did anybody else?” “I gave orders to my butler to destroy them.” “Do you think he would remember any of the postmarks?” “I never thought of that,” exclaimed the earl, with a start. “Probably not, but it is the very first thing that occurred to me. Did any letters arrive?” “That I cannot tell you.” “Where is your butler? Is he in your service now?” “Dear me, yes――he has never left it.” “Will you be kind enough to summon him?” Lord Ethalwood touched the bell. A servant entered. “Tell Mr. Jakyl I desire to speak with him,” said his master. In a minute or so the butler entered the library. “Will you leave it to me to put the necessary questions?” inquired the detective, addressing his lordship, who felt a mere child in comparison to the sagacious officer. “Certainly,” he answered, without hesitation. Mr. Wrench cleared his throat, and focussed his eyes upon the smooth and placid face of the butler. “I have one or two questions to put to you,” said the detective. “In the first place, did any letters arrive here from the Hon. Miss Ethalwood after her departure from Broxbridge?” Mr. Jakyl stood aghast――he could hardly believe that he had heard aright. “Did any letters arrive?” he paused, and glanced nervously at his master. “Go on. Answer, Jakyl, you have my permission.” “Yes, sir; several arrived after the departure of my young mistress, but――――” “You were told to destroy them,” observed the detective. “Did you do so?” “I would rather not answer the question,” said the butler, in evident trepidation; then, turning to Lord Ethalwood, he murmured in an under tone――“If I have done wrong, my lord, I hope you will pardon me. I did not destroy my young mistress’s letters.” “A very discreet and sensible man,” ejaculated Mr. Wrench. “And pray why did you disobey his lordship?” “Because I hoped that at some time they might be useful.”