He set out on horseback early in the morning, for his first day's circuit, taking a note-book in his pocket, to record facts as he went along, and first turning his horse's head towards the house of Mrs. Lawson, who had been a constant playfellow of William Stanley's, when both were children. This lady was one of a large family, who had been near neighbours of the Stanleys for years, and on terms of daily intimacy with them; and she had already told Harry, one day when she met him in the village, that she held herself in readiness to answer, to the best of her ability, any questions about her former playmate, that he might think it worth while to ask. On knocking at this lady's door, he was so fortunate as to find Mrs. Lawson at home; and, by especial luck, Dr. Lewis, a brother of her's, who had removed from that part of the country, happened just then to be on a visit at his sister's. After a little preliminary chat, Hazlehurst made known the particular object of his call. "Do I remember William Stanley's personal appearance and habits? Perfectly; quite as well as I do my own brother's," replied the doctor, to Harry's first inquiry. "Mrs. Lawson told me that he used to pass half his time at your father's house, and kindly offered to assist me, as far as lay in her power; and I look upon myself as doubly fortunate in finding you here to-day. We wish, of course, to collect as many minute details as possible, regarding Mr. Stanley's son, as we feel confident, from evidence already in our power, that this new-comer is an impostor." "No doubt of it," replied the doctor; "an extravagant story, indeed! Nearly eighteen years as still as a mouse, and then coolly stepping in, and claiming a property worth some hundreds of thousands. A clear case of conspiracy, without doubt." "Poor William was no saint, certainly," added Mrs. Lawson; "but this sailor must be a very bad man." "Pray, when did you last see young Stanley!" asked Harry, of the lady. "When he was at home, not long before his father's death. He held out some promise of reforming, then. Billings, who first led him into mischief, was not in the neighbourhood at that time, and his father had hopes of him; but some of his old companions led him off again." "He must have been a boy of strange temper, to leave home under such circumstances; an only son, with such prospects before him." "Yes, his temper was very unpleasant; but then, Mr. Stanley, the father, did not know how to manage him." "He could scarcely have had much sense either, to have been so easily led astray by a designing young fellow, as that Billings seems to have been." "Flattery; flattery did it all," observed the doctor. "Some people thought young Stanley little more than half-witted; but I have always maintained that he was not wanting in sense."