"What the deuce is all this about? What have you found? Can't you speak?" I cried, giving him a shake; for he had only flourished his hat again in reply to my first question, and cried "Hurrah!" "Excuse me, Mr. Kavanagh, but I'm beside myself to-night." "So it seems," I answered drily. "What have you been drinking for?" He was sobered in a moment. "I've touched nothing but a cup of coffee since this morning, sir." "Then what is the matter with you? What have you found?" "Mr. Kavanagh, I've found the _will!_" "Nonsense! Where?" "In the house in Wimpole street. Do you recognize this, sir?" he said, drawing a document from his breast-pocket, crumpled and dirtied. "Merciful heavens! it is the will I drew up!" "You could swear to it, sir?" "Yes, ten thousand times yes!" I had it unfolded and laid before me. There was the firm, bold signature of old Gilbert Thorneley; and below the crooked, ill-formed writing of John Barker, footman, and Thomas Spriggs, coachman. In the corner the date, and my own name which I had signed. "In the name of heaven, where and how did you find this, Keene?" "In the housekeeper's bedroom in Wimpole street, concealed under a loose plank in the floor. You know, sir, I have had my thoughts and suspicions for long; I have watched and waited. To-day my time came. The house is being done up. The plumber who has the doing of it is a friend of mine. One workman more or less made no difference: I have done odder things before than use the white-washing brush. I have been in that house for the last three days, and to-day I whitewashed the ceiling in Mrs. Haag's bedroom." "I understand. And searched it besides?" {100} "Just so, sir. She had done it cleverly; but I'm her match in cunning. I found the plank that had been disturbed, and I found the will under it and here I am." A text came to my mind,--"Be sure your sin will find you out;" and I repeated it half aloud. The inspector heard me. "Yes, sir, yes," he said gravely. "And there's another and a worse crime than stealing her master's will that I'm fearful she's guilty of." "You mean the murder?" "I do." TO BE CONCLUDED IN OUR NEXT. ------ ORIGINAL. MY SOLDIER. "Dear heart," he said, "I love you so, I dare not offer you my love Till passion purified in woe Shall worthier offering haply prove. "Then let us part. Mere absence is To love like mine enough of pain, As presence is enough of bliss; So welcome loss that leads to gain. "Yes, let us part. The bugles call, For God and you I draw the sword: Your tears will bless me if I fall, And if I live your kiss reward." He said, and parted. Long I staid To watch while tears would let me see, And longer, when he vanished, prayed That God might bring him back to me. Ah me! it was a selfish prayer To rob him of the nobler part; And God hath judged more wisely. Bear His judgment humbly, bleeding heart!