"I heard your voice, Richard," he said, "and did not wait for you to be ushered in with the formalities. Welcome, my friend;" his expression was as if he had said--"Welcome, my son." He led me into the library, and placing me in an arm-chair, sat down opposite me, looking at me with the well-remembered piercing shafts of those steel-blue eyes. After inquiring about my health, etc., he said, suddenly, "You have news." "You are right, Mr. Burton--else I should not have been here. I suppose you are aware that I have been a clerk in the dead-letter office for the last eighteen months?" "I was aware of it. I never intended to let you slip out of the numbered rosary of my friends, and lose you so entirely as not even to know your whereabouts." "Day before yesterday this letter arrived at the office, and I chanced to be the clerk who opened it." I handed him the missive. He examined the envelope attentively, before unfolding the sheet within; and as he continued to hold it in his hand, and gaze at it, one of those wonderful changes passed over his countenance that I had remarked on some previous important occasions. His practical intelligence seized upon the date, the post-office marks, the hasty direction, and made the contents of the letter his own, almost, before he read it. For some moments he pondered the outside, then drew forth the letter, perused it with one swift glance, and sat holding it, gazing at it, lost in thought, and evidently forgetful of my presence. A stern pallor settled gradually over his usually placid face; at last he looked up, and seeing me, recalled his surroundings to his recollection. "It is sad to be made to feel that such creatures live and flourish," he said, almost despondingly; "but," as his face brightened, "I can not say how glad I am to get hold of this. It partially explains some things which I have already found out. The chance which threw this document into your hands was a marvelous one, Richard." "However simple the explanation may prove to be, I shall always regard it as Providential." "All things are Providential," said my companion, "none less, and none more so. Causes will have their effects. But now, as to the writer of this--I am glad I have a specimen of the villain's handwriting; it will enable me to know the writer when I see him." "How so, Mr. Burton?"