"But _is_ it _his_ letter? How do we know that he has had anything to do with it?" inquired her brother, calmly--"It is much more probable that it is the production of old Mr. Quirk alone, for whom Mr. Gammon has, I know, a profound contempt. The handwriting is Mr. Quirk's; the style is assuredly not Mr. Gammon's; and the whole tone of the communication is such as satisfies me that neither was the composition of the letter, nor the idea of sending it, his; besides, he has really shown on every occasion a straightforward and disinterested"---- "Oh, Charles, it is very weak of you to be so hood-winked by such a fellow; I shudder to think of him! One of these days, Charles, you will be of my opinion, and recollect what I now say!"--While she thus spoke, and Mrs. Aubrey was, with a trembling hand, preparing tea, a double knock was heard at the street door. "Heavens, Charles! who can that possibly be, and at this time of night?" exclaimed Kate, with alarmed energy. "I really cannot conjecture"--replied Mr. Aubrey, with an agitation of manner which he found it impossible to conceal--"we've certainly but very few visitors--and it is so late." The servant in a few minutes terminated their suspense, and occasioned them nearly equal alarm and amazement, by laying down on the table a card bearing the name of MR. GAMMON. "Mr. Gammon!" exclaimed all three, in a breath, looking apprehensively at each other--"Is he _alone_?" inquired Mr. Aubrey, with forced calmness. "Yes, sir." "Show him into the study, then," replied Mr. Aubrey, "and say I will be with him in a few moments' time." "Dear Charles, don't, dearest, think of going down," said his wife and sister, with excessive alarm and agitation; "desire him to send up his message." "No, I shall go and see him, and at once," replied Mr. Aubrey, taking one of the candles. "For Heaven's sake, Charles, mind what you say to the man: he will watch every word you utter. And, dearest, don't stay long; consider what tortures we shall be in!" said poor Mrs. Aubrey, accompanying him to the door, and trembling from head to foot. "Rely on my prudence, and also that I shall not stop long," he replied; and descending the stairs, he entered the study. In a chair near the little book-strewn table sat his dreaded visitor--suggesting to his disturbed vision the idea of a deadly snake coiled up before him. Instantly, on seeing Mr. Aubrey, Gammon rose, with distress and agitation visible in his countenance and deportment. Mr. Aubrey, with calmness and dignity, begged him to resume his seat; and when he had done so, sat down opposite to him, with a sternly inquisitive look, awaiting his visitor's errand. He was not kept long in suspense.