"Timothy, I've been reflecting that my intimacy with poor Carbonnell has rather hindered than assisted me in my search. He found me with a good appearance, and he has moulded me into a gentleman, so far as manners and appearance are concerned; but the constant vortex in which I have been whirled in his company, has prevented me from doing anything. His melancholy death has perhaps been fortunate for me. It has left me more independent in circumstances, and more free. I must now really set to in earnest." "I beg your pardon, Japhet, but did not you say the same when we first set off on our travels, and yet remain more than a year with the gipsies? Did not you make the same resolution when we arrived in town, with our pockets full of money, and yet, once into fashionable society, think but little, and occasionally, of it? Now you make the same resolution, and how long will you keep it?" "Nay, Timothy, that remark is hardly fair; you know that the subject is ever in my thoughts." "In your thoughts, I grant, very frequently; but you have still been led away from the search." "I grant it, but I presume that arises from not knowing how to proceed. I have a skein to unravel, and cannot find out an end to commence with." "I always thought people commenced with the beginning," replied Tim, laughing. "At all events, I will now try back, and face the old lawyer. Do you call at Coleman Street, Tim, and at St Bridget's also, if you please." "As for St Bridget's, I'm in no particular hurry about my mother; if I stumble upon her I may pick her up, but I never make diligent search after what, in every probability, will not be worth the finding." Leaving Timothy to go his way, I walked to the house at Lincoln's Inn, which I had before entered upon the memorable occasion of the papers of Estcourt. As before, I rang the bell, the door swang open, and I was once more in the presence of Mr Masterton. "I have a letter, sir," said I, bowing, and presenting the letter from Lord Windermear. The old gentleman peered at me through his spectacles. "Why! we have met before--bless me--why you're the rogue that--" "You are perfectly right, sir," interrupted I. "I am the rogue who presented the letter from Lord Windermear, and who presents you with another from the same person; do me the favour to read it, while I take a chair." "Upon my soul--you impudent--handsome dog, I must say--great pity--come for money, I suppose. Well, it's a sad world," muttered the lawyer as he broke open the letter of Lord Windermear. I made no reply, but watched his countenance, which changed to that of an expression of surprise. "Had his lordship sent me a request to have you hanged if possible," said Mr Masterton, "I should have felt no surprise, but in this letter he praises you, and desires me to render you all the service in my power. I can't understand it."