But Adolph served me in more ways than one, and in a way neither he nor I could have dreamt of. The money-lender he recommended me to go to lived in the City, and to reach his office I had to pass my father's place of business. I drove there in a four-wheeled cab, and to avoid notice I kept the windows up. But as I passed my father's City house I could not help looking towards it, and I was surprised to find it closed. My own name did not appear upon the bill, and the money-lender and I were strangers to each other. I did not hesitate, therefore, when our business was concluded, to inquire if he knew Mr. Holdfast, and he replied that the name was well-known in the City. I then inquired why his place of business was closed, and received, in answer, the unexpected information that my father was in America, and had been there for many months. Upon this, I said in a careless tone, as though it were a matter in which I was but slightly interested, that I had heard that Mr. Holdfast had returned from America two or three months ago. "Oh, no," was the reply; "Mr. Holdfast had not yet come back." This set me thinking, and added another link to the mystery and sorrow of my life. I determined to assure myself whether my father was really in London, and on the following day I sent to his house, by a confidential messenger, an envelope. It was simply a test of the money-lender's statement. The messenger returned to me with the envelope unopened, and with the information that my father was in America. "I inquired of the workpeople," said my messenger, "and was told that Mr. Holdfast had not been seen in the neighbourhood for quite half a year."