In her distraction she almost forgot to open the daily letter of Mr. Hamilton. It breathed of hope! He had always been more sanguine than herself, and in this he pleaded strongly to be allowed to return. He argued that the protracted silence almost proved, beyond a doubt, that the whole had been a false alarm. She placed the dear letter next her heart, and, hastily gathering together the rest of her correspondence which had been cast aside, was preparing to arrange all things for her instant departure, when her attention was arrested by a second epistle from her brother Henry. She knew the worst; she had no more to fear, and she perused it with a desperate calmness. Henry began by saying that he, and all the other partners, had been much distressed by a communication they had received of so strange a character that he scarcely liked to disturb her mind by reporting it; that yet, as he had forwarded to her by the same post a letter which appeared to come from the same quarter as the one they had received, and as, if he mistook not, he had some time ago sent her another with a similar direction and post-mark, perhaps she might be prepared for what he was going to tell her. The fact was they had received a letter purporting to come from Mr. Cresford, and full of incomprehensible allusions to an escape from Verdun, and to a mock funeral; that they scarcely knew whether to consider it a forgery or not; that he grieved to say those who were most conversant with his hand-writing seemed most persuaded of its authenticity; that they were all in the greatest perplexity, but, upon the whole, agreed it was best to keep the circumstance secret for the present. He dreaded to think what her feelings must be; that for himself, he was firmly convinced it was an imposture from first to last,—that he remembered how circumstantial had been Colonel Eversham’s account of the funeral of poor Cresford, performed by torch-light, according to his own particular request, and attended by Colonel Eversham himself, by Captain Morton, and several more of the _détenus_ who were on parole. “And do you not remember his dwelling upon the awful circumstance, that in one short week from the time Captain Morton had acted as chief mourner at Cresford’s interment, he was himself committed to the grave? Do not worry yourself, therefore, my dearest sister. Depend upon it, it is a trick, with the view of extorting money; but I thought it would not be right to leave you in ignorance of the unpleasant doubt. “I should have been myself the bearer of this strange despatch, but I am unavoidably detained in town to-day by business. I will be with you soon after you receive this.” “It is all true,” she thought to herself, “and it is all known. It must now be published abroad; there is no escape!” and she looked wildly around her. This was no moment for deliberation or indecision.