At a late hour that same evening a messenger handed Justin a note. It was from Sibyl. She was waiting for him in the lobby, and had a carriage in the street. “I want to take you home with me,” she said, in her pleasantest manner. “Is Lucy there?” was his eager question. “What a mind reader you are!” She laughed playfully. “She is there, and if you are good I will permit you to have a look at her.” She led the way to the carriage. “You may see her, after you have seen some one else who is there,” she supplemented, as the carriage moved away from the hotel. “Who may that be?” Justin did not desire to see any one else. “Wait!” she said, mysteriously. Justin thought of Mary, of Ben, and even of Doctor Clayton. But he thought most of Lucy. But for his desire to see Lucy he would not have gone with Mrs. Dudley. When he arrived and was shown into the parlor he beheld William Sanders. He could not believe that he had been summoned to meet Sanders, and glanced about the room to ascertain if it held any one else. Sanders was alone. Sibyl, following hard on Justin’s heels, came in while he was greeting Sanders. The latter, having risen to take Justin’s hand, moved his jaws nervously. At home he would have chewed a grass blade or a broom straw. His cunning little eyes glanced away from Justin’s, instead of meeting them squarely. “I have come upon the strangest piece of information!” said Sibyl, speaking to Justin with simulated sympathy. “I could have brought you the news, or told you about it as we drove up, but I wanted you to hear it from Mr. Sanders himself. It is really the strangest and most romantic thing I ever listened to. I simply couldn’t believe it when Mr. Sanders told it to me first, but when he explained fully I saw that it must be true.” “And it come about in a mighty curious way; that is, my bein’ hyer did. ’Twas through a fortune teller. I’ve gone to a good many of ’em in my time, but this was the best one I ever found.” Sanders had dropped back into his chair, where he sat limply, his loose shabby garments contrasting strangely with the furnishings of the room. He clicked his teeth together, with a chewing motion, when he was not speaking, and looked at Justin with shifting gaze. He was not easy in his unfamiliar surroundings, and his manner showed it. Now and then he glanced at Sibyl, as if for help, as he proceeded with his narrative.