In due course of time the family arrived at the furnished house which had been taken for them in Queen Anne Street, and Paul and George went together to call there. The Captain was not at home; he had already begun to taste the sweets of liberty; had gone to the club, of which he still remained a supernumerary member; had already accepted several dinner engagements; was proposing to himself pleasure parties _galore_ But they found Mrs. Derinzy, and after a short interview with her, Annette entered the room. She seemed already to have benefited by the change. Both George and Paul thought her looking unusually pretty and cheerful, and the blush which mounted to her cheeks when she saw and recognised the former, was as gratifying to him who had caused it, as it was astonishing to Mrs. Derinzy. Before they took their leave, the young men had arranged to dine there two days hence, when Mrs. Derinzy said the Captain should be present, and she would allow him to bring some of his old friends to meet them. George, however, was not destined to be one of the guests at that dinner. When Paul arrived at the office the next morning, he found a note from his friend, couched in these terms: "DEAR P.,--Rather an odd thing occurred last night. Some men were down here at my den, and among them Wraxall, who has just returned from a long tour on the Continent. He brought some sketch-books, and in glancing over them I was much struck with the extraordinary head of an old man. On my pointing it out to Wraxall, he told me it was drawn from life, and was indeed a portrait of an old German named Hildebrand. He had been celebrated as a 'mad doctor' in his day, and he was now resident at Mayence. Wraxall had seen him only ten days ago. Recollecting our last conversation when Hildebrand's name was mentioned, you will not be surprised to hear that I leave by this morning's tidal train for Brussels and the Rhine. "Make my excuses to the Chief, and tell him I am taking the remainder of my leave. You shall hear, of course, as soon as I have anything to say. God bless you, my dear boy. I cannot help feeling that there is yet a gleam of hope. "Yours ever, "G.W." "A gleam of hope," said Paul, as he finished the perusal of this note. "I hope so, indeed, my dear old man; but it is but a gleam, after all." CHAPTER XXV. WARNED.