point, he acted in accordance with instructions. I think I have established the fact that Mr. Pelham knew your father was dead long before it was made public. Mrs. Holdfast must also have known. Why did they wait so long before they took steps towards the discovery? To avert any chance of suspicion being directed towards themselves? It is likely enough, and that is also the reason, when you, as Antony Cowlrick, were brought up at the police-court on suspicion of being implicated in the murder, why Mr. Pelham kept carefully out of sight, and therefore had no opportunity of recognising you. In this excess of caution he over-reached himself. At length, however, the time arrived when it was imperative the name of the murdered man should be made known, and Mr. Pelham and Mrs. Holdfast acted in concert. Your father's Will, of course, could not be proved in your father's lifetime, so it was necessary that the fact of his death should be established. It was done, and clear sailing was before them, with the exception of one threatening gale which promises to wreck them--the document for which Richard Manx is searching. He has not found it yet, or he would not have struck the wall so viciously as he did this morning when Fanny was watching him. Fate is against him, and is on our side. Another little point, of which a lawyer would make a mountain. Did it not occur to you as very strange that Mrs. Holdfast so easily obtained from small newspaper shops a quantity of newspapers relating to a murder at least three months old? The shops do not keep a stock of old newspapers on hand: I know that this is so, from personal inquiry. Just now there comes to my mind the report in the papers that, during the nine days your father lived in the fatal house next door, he had but one visitor--a lady, who came so closely veiled that no person in the house caught a glimpse of her face? Do you think it possible that this lady was Mrs. Holdfast? Good night, my dearest. By the morning some plan may occur to me which may help us to the end. Fanny went to bed an hour ago. Mrs. Preedy is asleep, and all is quiet in the house. What would I give if I could see into the mind of our young man lodger, Richard Manx! * * * * * I re-open my letter; I have something to add to it. No sooner did I lay my head on my pillow than I fell asleep. I think I must have slept over an hour when I was awoke by the sound of some one opening my bedroom door. I raised myself in bed, and cried in a loud tone, "Who's there?" "Hush! Don't make a noise. I've come to tell you something." It was Fanny who spoke, and she was standing at my bedside. "Are you frightened, Fanny?" I asked. "Shall I light a candle?" "No," replied Fanny, "it might wake Mrs. Preedy. I'm not frightened. I've been on the look-out." I passed my hand over Fanny, and discovered that she was fully dressed; but so that she should not be heard she had taken off her boots.