“Alone, Atkins?” he exclaimed, extending his hand, while he swept a quick glance about the room. “I am glad to have found you up, but had you gone to sleep, I must have awakened you. I have just received important news by messenger, who routed me up at my hotel. I came to you as soon as I could--” “If the news is unpleasant, do not tell it just yet,” said Atkins nervously, with a glance at the inner room. “I have news too, Lord Towyn. Come to the fire. Bless us, how the wind howls!” The young earl removed his greatcoat and advanced to the fire, and Atkins went into the inner office. The sound of whispering followed. Lord Towyn heard the sound and started, and at the same moment his glance fell upon Sir Harold Wynde’s cast-off greatcoat and hat. Presently Atkins returned, rubbing his hands together with excitement. “You are not alone, I see,” said the young earl. “I will see you again, Atkins--” “Stay, my lord,” said the solicitor. “I have news, great news, to impart to you. Let me communicate mine first. Can you bear a great surprise--a shock?” “You have heard from Miss Wynde?” cried Lord Towyn. “You have later news even than mine? Speak, Atkins. Those villains have not succeeded in forcing her into a marriage with young Black? It is not that--say that it is not.” “It is not that, my lord. How am I to tell you the startling news I have just learned? My lord, I have had a visit to-night from a gentleman who has just returned from India. He knew Sir Harold Wynde well, and came to give me all the particulars of Sir Harold’s supposed death!” “_Supposed_ death? How strangely you choose your words, Atkins. _Supposed_ death?” “Yes, my lord,” cried Atkins, trembling and eager. “We have all mourned Sir Harold as dead. And this gentleman says--prepare for a surprise, my lord--he says that Sir Harold Wynde still lives!” The young earl started, and grew white. “It is impossible!” he ejaculated. “He lives? It is preposterous! Atkins, you are the sport of some impostor!” “No, no, my lord. I believe it; I believe that Sir Harold lives!” “Have you forgotten the letter of Surgeon Graham, giving a circumstantial and minute account of Sir Harold’s death?” demanded Lord Towyn. “If Sir Harold had survived his encounter with the tiger, would he not have returned home over a year ago?”