“There may be difficulties in her way to conquer, more hopeless than kingdoms,” said Cuthbert involuntarily. “Young man, do you ken of any evil tidings,” asked Alexander Muir, with sudden haste and energy. “Nothing, nothing,” said Cuthbert, annoyed at himself for speaking words from which inferences so painful could be drawn--“You must hear my special mission to Ayr, Mr. Muir. Your niece has told me that the name of her grandmother was Allenders--it is an unusual name--Could you give me any information about the family.” The old man looked considerably surprised. “They were strangers here,” he said. “I mind of Mrs. Calder, very well, whose daughter Violet married James Muir, my brother. He was ten years younger than me, and so I mind of his good-mother, though she died long ago. They came from London, Mr. Charteris. There was a father and two daughters in the family. I will let you see all that remains of them--their grave.” “And are there no papers--no way of tracing the family to their origin,” said Cuthbert, with some uneasiness. “We have never thought it of any importance,” said the old man, smiling, “if it is, we may fall on some means maybe. It sharpens folk’s wits to have something to find out--but what depends on it, Mr. Charteris.” “I have said nothing of it to our friends in Glasgow--fearing that the name might have misled me,” said Cuthbert, “but there is, I am glad to tell you, an estate depending upon it--not a great one, Mr. Muir--a comfortable small estate producing some four hundred pounds a-year.” Cuthbert wanted to be rather under than over the mark--four hundred pounds a-year! the sum was princely and magnificent to the astonished old man. He looked at Cuthbert in a mist of bewilderment. He took off his spectacles and wiped their glasses again. He put up his hand to his head, and rubbed his forehead in confused amazement. “Four hundred pounds a-year!” “So far as I have gone yet, it seems almost certain that your nephew is the heir,” said Cuthbert. “The surname of itself is much, and the Christian names confirm its evidence very strongly. If you think there can be anything done to trace the origin of these Allenders, I should be glad to proceed to it at once.” The old man had bowed down his head--he was fumbling now with nerveless fingers at his glasses, and suddenly he raised the handkerchief with which he had been wiping them, up to his eyes. Some sounds, Cuthbert heard, like one or two broken irrepressible sobs, “For Harry--for the unstable callant--the Lord’s grace to save him from temptation--that I should live to see this hope!”