"Good," he said, rubbing his hands; "we may regard the campaign as opened. Woe to the murderer! Justice shall overtake him; he shall hang!" He uttered these words in a tone of malignant satisfaction, and as though the prospect of any man being hanged was thoroughly agreeable to him. "I will prove to you," he continued, "how completely you can trust me. You came here to-day with the intention of returning home and sleeping there. Your absence will alarm your wife. You must write to her." He placed notepaper and envelopes before me, and took from the mantelshelf a penny stone bottle of ink, then pointed to the pen which formed part of the cross upon the table. I wrote a line to my wife, informing her that events of great importance had occurred in relation to the murder of Lizzie Melladew, and that, for the purpose of following up the threads of a possible discovery, I intended to sleep out to-night; I desired her in my letter to go and see Mr. Portland and tell him that I was engaged in the task he had intrusted to me, and believed I should soon be in possession of a clue. "Have no anxiety for me," I said; "I am quite safe, and no harm will befall me. The prospect of unravelling this dreadful mystery fills me with joy." She would know what I meant by this; the murderer discovered, we should be comparatively rich. I fastened and addressed my letter. "It should reach her hands to-night," said Devlin. "How will you send it?" I stepped to the window, and, looking out, distinguished the figures of George Carton and Mr. Kenneth Dowsett, Mr. Dowsett seemed to be endeavouring, unavailingly, to persuade his ward to come away with him. I could employ no better messenger than George Carton; he should take my letter to my wife. Returning to the centre of the room, my eyes fell upon Devlin's desk. Devlin smiled and nodded; he knew what was passing in my mind. "I shall send my letter," I said, "by the hands of George Carton, who is still in the square, and I shall send your desk with it." "Do so," said Devlin. I opened the envelope, and tearing it into very small pieces flung them out of window. Devlin smiled again. "So that I should not discover your address," he said. "That is it," I replied. "It is likely," he said, "to be not very far from Mr. Melladew, because you and he are friends." I added a few words to my letter, desiring my wife to put the desk in a place of safety; and then, addressing another envelope, I went down-stairs, bearing both desk and letter. "I shall be here when you come back," said Devlin. "Even were I protean, I shall not change my shape. My word is given." On my way to the street-door I encountered Fanny Lemon. "Well, sir?" she asked anxiously. "I will speak to you presently," I said, and, opening the street-door, crossed the road to where George Carton and his guardian were standing. CHAPTER XXII. I SEND DEVLIN'S DESK TO MY WIFE, AND SMOKE A FRAGRANT CIGAR.