Sir Arthur Adelon, after leaving Eda and Dudley together, hurried back as fast as he could go to the house of Mr. Clive, passing by the way the man who had brought him the note, which he still held clasped firmly in his hand. He was evidently a good deal agitated when he set out; the muscles of his face worked, his brow contracted, and muttered sentences escaped his lips. From this state he seemed to fall into deep thought. The emotions probably were not less intense, but they were more profound; and when he came near the house he stopped and leaned for a moment against the gate, murmuring, "What can it be?" After a pause of a moment or two he rang the bell, and asked the maid who appeared, where the gentleman was who had sent him that letter. The woman seemed somewhat confused, said she did not know anybody had sent him a letter, but that Mr. Clive was in the drawing-room with his daughter. Her embarrassment, and that of the baronet, however, were removed, almost as she spoke the last words, by a voice calling down the stairs and saying, "Sir Arthur Adelon, will you do me the honour of walking up hither?" The baronet instantly obeyed the invitation, but it was with a very pale face, and the next instant he was in the room with Norries. The latter had withdrawn into the chamber where his conference had taken place with Clive, and he fixed a steadfast gaze on the baronet as he entered; then turning towards the door, he closed it and waved his visitor to a seat, taking one himself at the same time, and still keeping his bright gray eyes fixed firmly upon the baronet's face. Hitherto not a word had been spoken, and Norries remained silent for some instants; but at length he said, "I perceive, both by your coming and your demeanour, Sir Arthur Adelon, that you have not forgotten me." "Oh, no! Mr. Norries," replied the baronet; "I remember you quite well, and am happy to see you. But is it not somewhat dangerous for you to visit England just now?" "Not in the least, I think," said Norries. "I am obliged to you for your solicitude, Sir Arthur. If it had shown itself materially twelve months ago, it might have kept me out of York Castle." "I really do not see how I could have served you," answered Sir Arthur Adelon; "indeed, I never knew that you were in York Castle." "For three days," replied Norries, laconically. "But this is irrelevant; let me speak of more important affairs. As your memory is so good, you have probably not forgotten yet what took place eight and six years ago, in regard to transactions affecting Charles Dudley, Esquire, since dead." "Well, sir, well!" cried Sir Arthur, "what of that?" "You inquired once," said Norries, "for the correspondence respecting that affair; I think I could give you some information concerning it." "Was it not burnt?" exclaimed Sir Arthur. "You told me it was burnt."