On acquainting him with the intelligence received from home, he expressed astonishment in no measured language, for he did not fail to perceive the suspicion which would naturally arise in Fellows’ mind, that, in some way or other, it was due to him the information had leaked out, so as to enable it to be conveyed to Broadstone. It was hardly necessary for him to assure Fellows that no word had been breathed to a soul of what had been told him. The man honestly believed him. There was, however, still the fact to be explained—how had it become known? The only possible solution seemed to be that someone must have overheard their conversation, but who that someone could be they were unable to form any conception. Another circumstance stated in Mrs. Sinclair’s letter, calculated to give rise to uneasiness, was that an agent in Quebec had been instructed to make inquiry concerning the facts which the writer of the letter had professed to reveal. Through what channels was that inquiry likely to be made? Someone would probably be deputed to do this on the spot. It at once occurred to Fellows that "Puffey’s" recent visit was associated with that quest. It explained, too, the man’s apparent anxiety that he should become a candidate for admission to the ranks of the police, as without some such plausible excuse he could not have questioned him in the way he did. On that assumption, his past career was already known to the police. And whatever the decision of the firm might ultimately be, he would in all probability be shadowed by them until it was made known. They would not yet be able to prevent him leaving the country, if he was so disposed; but his progress from place to place would no doubt be noted, so that, in the event of being eventually wanted, they would know where they could place their hands upon him. How to act, or what to do under the circumstances, he felt at some loss to decide. Sunday was again close at hand, when he had arranged to meet Jessie, in order to learn her decision, which was to determine his future. He would await that interview, and at the same time acquaint her with this new factor, so suddenly and unexpectedly imported into his life. Meanwhile, how had it fared with Charles Barton since the day he had written and posted the letter which had set in motion the causes that had given rise to all this uneasy feeling? He could not account for having received no reply to the letter he had sent. That it would have been acknowledged was the least he expected. That this had not been done was at once a surprise, and a cause of anxiety as to what it might ultimately lead to, which laid a considerable tax upon his nervous powers, never remarkable for their strength.