"This foolish, headstrong lad will be the death of me," said Mr. Dowsett in a fretful tone, "and of himself as well." "I am neither foolish nor headstrong," retorted the unhappy young man. "I told you he was in there still, and you told me he had left the house." "I said it for your good," said Mr. Dowsett, "but you will not be ruled." "No, I will not!" exclaimed George Carton violently; and then said remorsefully, "I beg you to forgive me for speaking so wildly; it is the height of ingratitude after all your goodness to me. But do you not see--for God's sake, do you not see--that you are making things worse instead of better for me by opposing me as you are doing? I will have my way! I will, whether I am right or wrong!" "My poor boy," said Mr. Dowsett, addressing me, "has got it into his foolish head that you can be of some assistance to him. In heaven's name, how can you be?" "Mr. Dowsett," I said, and the strange experiences of the last few hours imported, I felt, a solemnity into my voice, "the ends of justice are sometimes reached by roads we cannot see. It may be so in this sad instance." "There," said George Carton to his guardian, in a tone of melancholy triumph, "did I not tell you?" Mr. Dowsett shrugged his shoulders impatiently, and said, "I declare that if I did not love my ward with a love as sincere and perfect as any human being ever felt for another, I would wash my hands of this business altogether." "But why," said Carton, with much affection, "do you torment yourself about it at all?" "It is you I torment myself about," said Mr. Dowsett, "not the horrible deed. I love you with a father's love, and I cannot leave you in the state you are." George Carton put his arm around his guardian caressingly. "I am not worth it," he murmured; "I am not worth it; but I cannot act otherwise than I do. Sir"--to me--"I have lingered here in the hope that you might have some news to tell me." "I have nothing I can communicate to you," I said; "but rest assured that my interest in the discovery of the murderer is scarcely less than yours. I have taken up the search, and I will not rest while there is the shadow of a hope left." "I knew it, I knew it," said George Carton. "Knowing it, then," I said, "and receiving the assurance from my lips, will you do me a service, and be guided by my advice?" "I will, indeed I will," replied Carton. "It is heartbreaking," said Mr. Dowsett mournfully, turning his head, "to find a stranger's counsel preferred to mine." "No, no," cried George Carton, "I declare to you, no! But you would have me do nothing, and I cannot obey you. I cannot--I cannot sit idly down, and make no effort in the cause of justice. My dear Lizzie is dead, and I do not care to live. But I will live for one thing--revenge!" "Be calm," I said, taking the young man's fevered hand, "and listen to me. I wish you to take this letter and desk to my wife, and deliver them to her with your own hands. Will you do so?" "Yes."