“It’s rather puzzling, you see, in the way you put it,” he said, scratching his nose meditatively. “You want a young woman who wrote a letter--or leastways had a letter posted at this place. But, lor’ bless you, not being under Government y’rself, you see, you’ve no notion of the dodges they’re up to when they want to throw any one off the scent like with a post-mark. You mustn’t fancy a person’s in this place or in that place, because you happen to get a letter from them with such and such a post-mark. Why, I dessay I could get a letter posted from Jericho to-morrow morning, if I only gave my mind to it. What might be the name of the young woman as you’re anxious to find?” “Her name is Tredethlyn,” Francis answered, hopelessly; “but as she ran away from home, and most likely wanted to hide herself from her relations, she may have changed her name.” The postmaster mused for a few moments, and then shook his head gravely. “I never heard of no Tredevillings in Coltonslough,” he said. “The young person was independent in her circumstances, I suppose?” “Oh no, indeed! she had very little money when she left home. She must have worked for her living. I should think it likely that she went out for a servant; for she was a country-bred girl, and had been used to a hard life, though her father was a very rich man.” A very rich man! That part of the business sounded interesting, and the grocer pricked up his ears. “A country-bred young person,” he repeated, “by the name of Tredevillane. And what might be the date of the letter with the Coltonslough post-mark?” Francis did not know the exact date. He could only inform the postmaster that the letter must have reached Cornwall about eighteen months, or it might be rather less than eighteen months, before the present time. “Cornwall!” cried the postmaster; “then the country-bred young woman was a Cornwall young woman?” “Yes, my cousin, Susan Tredethlyn, was a Cornish woman.” “A Cornish woman, and by the name of Susan! Why, if you’d put the date of the letter a good three years back instead of a year and a half, I should have been able to lay my hand upon y’r cousin there and then, in a manner of speaking.” “How so?” “Because I did know a young person that lived with Mrs. Burfield, in Trafalgar Terrace. But that young person left Coltonslough full three years ago, and I’ve never set eyes on her since.” “But tell me all you know about her!” exclaimed Francis, almost breathless in his eagerness. “What was she like? Why do you fancy that she was the girl I’m looking for?”