"Have you any likeness of George Thorley?" asked Mr. Burton. "No. Poor Nora had his ambrotype, but after her death I threw it into the fire." "Will you describe him to us?" Miss Sullivan gave a description corresponding in all particulars with that given by Mr. Burton, after reading the dead-letter; he asked her about the third finger of the right hand, and she said--"Yes, it had been injured by himself, in some of his surgical experiments." We now proposed to take leave, the detective again assuring Leesy that he should rather protect her against Thorley than allow him any chance to annoy her; he assured her she should be cared for in his absence, and, what was more, that if little Nora should be left friendless, he would keep an eye on the child and see that it was suitably brought up. This last assurance brightened the face of the consumptive with smiles and tears; but when he gave her his hand at parting, she burst into sobs. "It is our last meeting, sir." "Try to keep as well as you are now until I come back," he said, cheerfully. "I may want you very much then. And, by the way, Leesy--one question more. You once told me that you did not recognize the person you saw upon the lawn, at Mr. Argyll's, that night--have you a suspicion who it might be?" "None. I believe the man was a stranger to me. I only saw him by a flash of lightning at the instant he was descending from the tree; if he had been an acquaintance I do not know that I should have known him." "That is all. Good-by, little Nora. Don't forget Burton." We heard the girl's sobs after the door was shut. "I'm her only friend," said my companion, as he walked away. "No wonder she is moved at letting me go. I think, with her, that it is doubtful if she lasts until we get back. Still, her disease is a lingering one--I hope I shall see her live to witness the sad triumph of our industry." "You speak as if the triumph were already secured." "If he's on the face of the earth, we'll find Doctor George Thorley. It is no longer possible that we should be on the wrong track. You know, Richard, that I have not confided all my secrets to you. There will be no one more astonished than yourself when I summon my witnesses and sum up my conclusions. Oh, that the hour were come! But I forget my motto--'learn to labor and to wait.'" CHAPTER IV. EMBARKED FOR CALIFORNIA. We were on our way to California by the next steamer. By the advice of Mr. Burton I purchased my ticket under an assumed name, for he did not wish to excite the curiosity of the Argylls, who might happen to see the passage-list, and who would be sure to suspect something from the contiguity of our names. To his friends, who chanced to know of his sudden intentions, Mr. Burton represented that the health of his daughter demanded a change of climate, and business matters had led him to prefer California.