CHAPTER VIII. "STILL THE PALE DEAD REVIVES, AND LIVES TO ME." It was on the second day after Fétis had been deprived of his liberty, that the post brought a thick packet to Mr. Durnford in Bloomsbury Square, as he sat with Lavendale over a bottle of claret after the four o'clock dinner. The writing of the address was unfamiliar to him, and the characters had a blurred and irregular look, as if the hand that had traced them had scarce been steady enough to hold a pen. He broke the seals hurriedly, eager to see the contents, for the post-mark was that of the next post town to Flamestead and Fairmile. The letter contained an enclosure consisting of three other letters, the ink faded, and the paper yellowed by age. These were written in French, in a niggling mean little hand which Mr. Herrick had never seen before. On the inside of the cover were these lines in the same illegible and tremulous scrawl as the outer inscription. "SIR,----the hand of death is on me. Your wife never injured me, and I should like to do her a good turn before I die. The enclosed letters, which Squire Bosworth found on the person of your wife's father, were discovered by me in his bureau some years ago. They may help you to a fortune, and induce you to think more kindly of your humble servant,----BARBARA LAYBURNE." Herrick hastily unfolded one of the three letters, and looked at the signature. "By heaven, Lavendale, 'tis a strange world!" he exclaimed. "This letter is signed by the man who was here the other night, and his signature in this conjuncture, before I read a line of this correspondence, assures me that my suspicion is well founded." "What suspicion?" "One which I have hitherto hesitated to confide to you lest you should deem me a lunatic. I have for some time suspected that the likeness between Irene and the portrait you and I unearthed at Ringwood Abbey was something more than an accident--that there was a link between the story of Topsparkle's past life and my dear one's birth--and here in Philip Chumleigh's possession are letters bearing the signature of Topsparkle's tool and accomplice. Before I read them I am convinced they will confirm all my suspicions." "Read, Herrick, read. Thou knowest I am more interested in thy fortunes than in my own--for thine are the more hopeful. Read, Herrick, I burn with impatience." Durnford obeyed, and after a careful comparison of dates read the first letter, which was dated Florence, July 20th, 1705.