"St. Udo Brand lies ill at Bala--send Davenport to receive his instructions to Gelert's Hotel, Coventry street.' "That is what the telegram says; now I request that for once you will obey my wish, and fly thither by the first train. "Tell no one, not even Gay, for he is in the confidence of this wretch here. Heaven knows whether you are not the same. "Yours, anxiously, "MARGARET WALSINGHAM." In the envelope was the bogus telegram; no wonder that the lawyer, suspicious though he was, had been completely deceived this time. "I can show you as strange an epistle, which I received," cried Margaret, going to her desk for Dr. Gay's purported letter, and handing it to Mr. Davenport. He read it and turned it over in blank surprise. "Extraordinary!" muttered the lawyer. "Could Gay have got another telegram! Then you didn't send the doctor off, did you?" "No, indeed, Mr. Davenport, nor you, either. Your untimely absence almost cost me my life, as you would have heard had you made any inquiries as to the state of affairs at Emersham's law office, before you came over here. We have all been infamously duped, sir, by a wretch unworthy of the name of man--but he shall soon expiate his crimes on the scaffold. All these communications have been cleverly forged by no other than Roland Mortlake, who is now flying for his life from the officers of justice." "Extraordinary! most extraordinary!" aspirated Mr. Davenport. He was getting very quiet, his purple face was fading into a frightened gray, his rousing tones were sinking into a soft dejection; he began to scent a mistake from afar, and to shoulder the humiliation. And at this auspicious moment, Mrs. Chetwode opened the door and announced Dr. Gay, just arrived, to demand his explanation. The lawyer stepped to the door to warn Dr. Gay of his error, and shook hands with the solemnity of a sexton greeting the chief mourner at a funeral. "There's been a terrible blunder here," said he, spiritlessly; "we've both allowed ourselves to be made confounded fools of by a rascal. Have you heard anything in the town?" "Not I," returned the little doctor, who looked as if he had not slept for a week. "I've just come home, and rushed over here as fast as a horse's legs could carry me. How are you now, Miss Margaret?" "Well, thank you, and overjoyed to see you back again. I feel safe now," murmured Margaret, looking up in her counselor's face with a gentle glance. "There will be an end to all misunderstanding now, and we shall be friends as we used to be." Mr. Davenport was wiping his forehead with his enormous bandanna, and looking very foolish; and Dr. Gay stared from one to the other, and got more mystified every minute. "Have you made anything of this queer business?" asked he. "Gad! sir, I think we have," returned the lawyer; "and more than we bargained for. We've caught a rascal in it!"