‘Well, what of it?’ he said. ‘You did receive it, then?’ said Cestus. Fabricius nodded hastily. ‘Then I am the bearer of a further message from him who wrote that letter and sent that ribbon—and see, here is my warrant!’ Cestus drew from his breast the remaining portion of the faded ribbon from which he had cut the former piece enclosed to Fabricius. When the eyes of the latter fell on it, his frame trembled with an agitation he could not hide. He motioned Natta to depart, and when the door was closed, he unlocked a cabinet, and took therefrom the tablets he had received, with the ribbon in question. His eye had told him, at a glance, that the two portions were of the self‐same fabric; but, partly to hide his feelings, and because he felt he could scarcely trust his voice, he nervously went on fitting the severed ends together. ‘You see that all is right—that one piece has been cut from the other,’ said Cestus at length. ‘Who are you, and what do you know of this?’ asked Fabricius, in a voice which palpably trembled. ‘Something in your face or tone seems familiar to me.’ ‘I cannot say whether I resemble any one you know, noble sir,’ replied the Suburan, with _sang froid_; ‘but, touching the ribbon, it was sent because it is of an uncommon pattern; for which reason it was also thought you might remember and recognise it, as having been worn by the child, your granddaughter, long ago.’ ‘I could not remember it; but when it came, like a message from the dead, I searched among the little garments and clothing in the child’s room, which remains undisturbed as when she left it, and there I found some more of the same pattern. How came you by it? Tell me quickly what you know; and yet most likely it is nothing but another befooling—another deception of a foolish, fond, old man!’ ‘I know well enough you have been fooled many times, but I know just as well, that you never had a proof like this—something to see and touch—something that fits into its proper place, in this affair, without any denial. This is different to the tales and tricks which have been specially made to draw money from your coffers. The girl is alive and well, and I have other proofs, better than this, to show and tell you.’ ‘Man—man! if money be your object, you are labouring in vain,’ said Fabricius, feebly endeavouring to appear firm and resolute; ‘I have spent my last coin in the folly, and now when extreme age is beginning to lay its hold on me, I have at last learnt my lesson from experience. In no great time now I shall be with my fathers—there will be an end of my sorrows—for that I can now wait. If you are bent on extortion and falsehood your opportunity is gone. Nay more, I will put an end to such deception, and claim the help of justice—so take care!’