Now we all must have observed how advertisements, though of an exceptional and esoteric cast, are gregarious in character. That is to say, if some strange want appears advertised on a particular day, there will be sure to be others of its kind in company, and that without any editorial provision, and despite the fact that nothing of its sort, maybe, has occurred for weeks. Here one obese gentleman led to another, and undesignedly, one might feel sure. It was simply that adiposity was in the air, like a germ, and affected not individuals but communities. It made no difference that an obvious sincerity spoke from the second advertisement--no difference to the principle, I mean. As to its effect upon _one_ reader, it was simply for the moment paralysing. WINSOM WYLLIE! Those who have followed the career of our young philanthropist will not have forgotten the name of that detestable scoundrel, the persecutor of the beautiful amanuensis. It was peculiar, one must admit--a name not likely to be borne by more than a single person in the world. So thought Gilead, as, with a deep sigh, he struggled out of his stupefaction and reread the lines. Winsom Wyllie! So the brazen wretch had confessed himself, and unblushingly, at the last. It was well. If unlimited wealth, if a soul of righteous indignation, were of any avail against the forces of malignancy, he should be hounded surely to his doom. The means were here; the way alone was the question. It must not be supposed that during all these long months Gilead had been content to relegate this matter to the shelf of discarded things. Quietly and unobtrusively he had kept it alive in his mind, had prosecuted cautious enquiries, had caused a persistent watch to be kept on the little house on Knight’s Hill; and, if all his efforts had proved in vain, he had been at least able to find comfort in the conviction that the villain, true to his name, had scented danger and studied discretion by obliterating himself. And now here he was come out into the light of day, and boldly affirming his existence in the face of any whom it might concern. The advertisement was nothing less than a challenge and a defiance. Well, the gage, he should find, would be taken up. But it was necessary, of course, to move with the extremest caution and circumspection. Nothing, in the first place, must be said about the matter to Miss Halifax, lest the shock should bring on again one of those cataleptic seizures with which it was associated; nor could he think himself justified in revealing, unauthorized, to her fiancé the details of so delicate and painful a story. No, alone and single-handed he must encounter the man on his own ground, betraying nothing of his purpose until that purpose was accomplished. The villain must be overthrown, disposed of for good and all, ere ever the girl should learn of the shadow that had finally been removed from her life.