She faltered: 'I knew him .... Harry was lost in the streets of London when he was a little fellow, and the Mr. Bannerbridge I knew found him and took him to his house, and was very kind to him.' 'What was his Christian name?' I gave them: 'Charles Adolphus.' 'The identical person!' exclaimed my father. 'Oh! you admit it,' said the squire. 'Ever seen him since the time Harry was lost, Dorothy?' 'Yes,' she answered. 'I have heard he is dead: 'Did you see him shortly before his death?' 'I happened to see him a short time before.! 'He was your man of business, was he?' 'For such little business as I had to do.' 'You were sure you could trust him, eh?' 'Yes.' My aunt Dorothy breathed deeply. 'By God, ma'am, you're a truthful woman!' The old man gave her a glare of admiration. It was now my turn to undergo examination, and summoned by his apostrophe to meet his eyes, I could appreciate the hardness of the head I had to deal with. 'Harry, I beg your pardon beforehand; I want to get at facts; I must ask you what you know about where the money came from?' I spoke of my attempts to discover the whence and wherefore of it. 'Government? eh?' he sneered. 'I really can't judge whether it came from that quarter,' said I. 'What do you think?--think it likely?' I thought it unlikely, and yet likelier than that it should have come from an individual. 'Then you don't suspect any particular person of having sent it in the nick of time, Harry Richmond?' I replied: 'No, sir; unless you force me to suspect you.' He jumped in his chair, astounded and wrathful, confounded me for insinuating that he was a Bedlamite, and demanded the impudent reason of my suspecting him to have been guilty of the infernal folly. I had but the reason to instance that he was rich and kind at heart. 'Rich! kind!' he bellowed. 'Just excuse me--I must ask for the purpose of my inquiry;--there, tell me, how much do you believe you 've got of that money remaining? None o' that Peterborough style of counting in the back of your pate. Say!' There was a dreadful silence. My father leaned persuasively forward. 'Mr. Beltham, I crave permission to take up the word. Allow me to remind you of the prize Harry has won. The prince awaits you to bestow on him the hand of his daughter--' 'Out with it, Harry,' shouted the squire. 'Not to mention Harry's seat in Parliament,' my father resumed, 'he has a princess to wife, indubitably one of the most enviable positions in the country! It is unnecessary to count on future honours; they may be alluded to. In truth, sir, we make him the first man in the country. Not necessarily Premier: you take my meaning: he possesses the combination of social influence and standing with political achievements, and rank and riches in addition--'