"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Kyffin, "here is a letter directed to me. It is the one I have long missed from my unfortunate young ward, Harry Tryon. Excuse me, sir, while I read its contents." Mr. Kyffin ran his eye over the letter. "The poor lad here gives an explanation of his conduct, and his reasons for quitting London. He weakly yielded to the temptation thrown in his way by Silas Sleech, that is very evident, but in no other respect do I believe that he was criminal. However, we will look over the remainder of these papers, and I trust then we shall have the means of exonerating him still further. What do you think of these papers?" asked Mr. Kyffin, holding a sheet up to Mr. Coppinger. On it was written over and over again the name of the firm, as signed by Mr. Coppinger himself. Evidently the writer had been endeavouring to imitate Mr. Coppinger's signature. He had done so very successfully. Indeed, another paper was found containing a signature which Mr. Coppinger declared to be genuine. It was clearly the copy for the others. "Now I feel sure," said Mr. Kyffin, "that Silas Sleech forged that paper which he wished it to be supposed Harry had forged, while it's very possible that he may also have forged Harry's signature to some of the bills which he showed us when he endeavoured to prove Harry's guilt." "I indeed think your account very likely to be true," said Mr. Coppinger. "I am ashamed at having allowed such a scoundrel as Mr. Sleech undoubtedly is, to have remained so long in my office undetected; yet so plausible are his manners, that had this evidence against him not been discovered, I should have been unwilling to believe him guilty." "You will not let him escape, surely, sir," said Mr. Kyffin; "justice demands that he should be brought to trial, so that the character of your nephew may be vindicated." The two gentlemen examined all the papers thoroughly, making notes of their contents, and then locked them carefully up in the safe in Mr. Coppinger's room. Mr. Kyffin having accompanied Mr. Coppinger to Broad Street, and supped with him, returned at night to the office, where he occasionally occupied a bedroom. He had been in bed for some time, though not asleep, thinking over Harry's affairs, when he was aroused by a knocking at the door. He heard the porter go out of his room and admit some one. It immediately struck him that it was Silas Sleech; for as the porter knew nothing of his proceedings, he would naturally, without hesitation, admit him. Rapidly dressing, therefore, he struck a light, and putting the pistol, which he usually carried to and from Hampstead, in his pocket, he proceeded down-stairs. The person who had come in did not go to Mr. Sleech's room; but after a few minutes' conversation entered the counting-house. Mr. Kyffin heard him wish the porter good-night, and say that he should not be long. "Call me at an early hour, there's a good fellow, for I have to be off betimes," he added.