With a low, guttural growl, he was about to make known to Whelks the nature of his convictions in having, at such an inopportune moment, thrust upon him so foul a communication, when his eye caught sight of the name--printed, according to the trade term, in fat-faced Egyptian--of Chewkle. He felt as if some one had suddenly smote him on the head with a club, and he broke into a cold sweat. This man was in possession of his horrid secret; he was in his power; at any time he could blazon forth to the world that a Grahame, the proudest of a proud family, had committed a base act of forgery. He was now amenable to the law of transportation--liable to be torn from his present high position, and compelled to work and toil with thieves and scoundrels in a penal colony. These reflections, none the less vivid for presenting themselves in that brilliantly lighted room, and in the presence of guests of high birth, made his face grow white, and his knees tremble. He whipped up the card and thrust it into his pocket, hoping that it had escaped the eyes of all but himself. Whelks delivered, then, an urgent message from Chewkle, and Mr. Grahame said, in a low tone-- “Where is he?” “In the ’orl, sir,” returned the footman, with a perked-up nose. “Show him into the library; I will come to him immediately,” exclaimed Mr. Grahame, in the same tone as before. Whelks bowed, and departed to obey the instructions he had received, and then to discuss with Sarah the nature of the business of a “Kermission Agent,” as he styled Chewkle’s occupation, and wherefore it should, as it appeared to him that it most certainly did, obtain so great an influence over such a man as Mr. Grahame. Mr. Grahame perceiving that Helen had absorbed the attention of the Duke and Lester Vane, glided out of the room into the library. As he entered it he became conscious of a strong smell of the “fragrant weed,” which, however, to his olfactory nerves had not “the scent of the rose,” and he saw Mr. Chewkle, with part of a truly British cheroot in his hand, standing near to the lamp upon the table, harassed by doubts as to the propriety of relighting it or the propriety of doing nothing of the sort. Mr. Grahame bowed patronisingly, but said hastily-- “Not smoking, I hope, Mr. Chewkle!” “No,” returned Chewkle; “it was out afore I came in, but I thought if you didn’t mind, you know----” “But, indeed, I do mind!” responded Mr. Grahame, quickly, and then added most fiercely, as he perceived the red and begrimed face of his visitor, his dirty collar, his necktie and his hair disordered, all indicating the frequent quaffing and replenishment of “the glass which cheers” and _does_ inebriate--“Pray tell me, Mr. Chewkle, to what circumstance I am to attribute your visit at, to me, a most inconvenient time?”