"I was at Jarlchester," said Roger, emphatically, "during the investigation of that case." Both his listeners were silent, as if some nameless fear paralysed their tongues; then Marson looked at Spolger, and Spolger looked at Marson, while Roger glanced rapidly from one to the other. At this moment Judith entered the room. "Florry is better," she said, advancing; "she is-- What, Mr. Axton!" "Yes; I came down here to see a friend, and thought I would look in," replied Roger as she greeted him. "I am very glad you did not forget us," she remarked, quietly resuming her seat. "Will you have a cup of tea?" "Thank you!" They were seated beside the tea-table, and were quite alone, as Mr. Marson in company with his future son-in-law had left their seats, and were now talking together in low whispers at the end of the room. Judith handed a cup of tea to Roger, and looked at him steadily as he stirred it with a listless expression on his worn face. "You don't look well," she said at length, dropping her eyes. "Mental worry," he responded, with a sigh. "I have undergone a good deal since I last saw you." "In connection with that?" she asked, in a low voice. "Yes! I received your letter in London, and went at once down to Jarlchester on a walking tour, that is, I made my walking tour an excuse for being there. I stayed there a week, and then received your second letter saying he was coming." "And he came?" asked Judith, with a quick indrawn breath. "He did." "You saw him?" she continued, looking nervously towards the two whispering figures at the end of the room. "Yes!" "And got--and got the letters?" "Of course," said Axton, in a tone of surprise. "I sent them to you--to the post office, as you desired." "My God!" she said, in a low voice of agony, "I--I have not received them. I went to the post office every day to ask for a packet directed to Miss Judith, but have been told it had not come." "Good heavens!" said Roger, with a start of surprise, "I hope they have not gone astray--I ought to have registered them." "If you had I could not have obtained them," replied Miss Varlins, hurriedly; "you forget. The packet was addressed to Miss Judith, and the postmistress knows me so well, I could not have signed any but my own name without causing remark." "You ought to have allowed me to send them here." "Yes! and then Florry would have seen them." "Nonsense!" "There is always a possibility," said Judith, quickly; "but if these letters have gone astray, what are we to do?" "Well, if--" "Hush!" She laid her hand suddenly on his arm to arrest his speech, for at that moment the voice, thin and peevish, of Mr. Spolger, was heard saying a name: "Sebastian Melstane." Judith and Roger both looked at one another, their cheeks pale, their manners agitated, and he was about to speak again when she stopped him for the second time. "Listen!"