“Of the one I know nothing; of the other, particulars are contained in this sealed paper. The party who communicates with me, forbade it to be opened until the thing was put in train.” “Well, how the devil,” said Mr. Brown, “can I enter on a business that I know nothing of?” “I only know generally,” returned Mr. Sloman, “what it is.” “Go on,” said Mr. Brown impatiently. “There is a person in the way--he must be removed;” said Mr. Sloman in a whisper. “Murdered, of course,” observed the host. “Upon my soul, Mr. Brown, I am quite surprised at the unprofessional nature of your remark. Do you see any thing particularly green about me, to lead you to suppose that I would make myself accessory before fact? I neither know the man, nor will know anything of the man; or what _is_ to become of him, or what _will_ become of him. I got this sealed note, and that there _flimsy_ as retaining fee,” and he held up a sealed packet, and a bank note for a hundred pounds, both of which Mr. Brown took and examined most attentively. “That’s sealed close enough,” he said, laying down the paper on the table; “and that’s _genuine_,” he added, after submitting the bank note to an investigation before the candle, to ascertain the authenticity of the water-mark. “Is the five safe?” he said, still playing with the hundred in his hand. “I’ll freely deposit that hundred as security,” returned Mr. Sloman, “and now, in a word, is the thing in your line? Will you do it?” “Do what?” responded Mr. Brown, with a look of innocent surprise. “My dear Brown,” returned Mr. Sloman, “what the devil use in dodging with a friend?” “It’s you that’s dodging,” replied the amiable host; “pray may I read this paper?” “Read it, if you please, but tell me nothing of the contents.” “You’re a deep-un,” Slowey and Mr. Brown again passed the bank note between the candle and his eye. “Undeniable!” he muttered, and next moment he retired to the corner of the apartment, at the special solicitation of Mr. Sloman; and then having broken the seal of the packet, Brown read the writing, while Sloman, in perfect ignorance of its import, drew the decanter closer, and as cocknies say, “assisted” himself liberally to the contents. When the worthy owner of the house had read the scroll, the effect upon him seemed astounding. His frame appeared convulsed, the lip whitened, and the hand that held the paper seemed scarcely able to retain it. He read it again and again, and then, crumpling it in his grasp, returned to the table, filled a glass of brandy, and drained it to the bottom; an example faithfully followed by his excellent friend, Mr. Sloman. “Well, Mr. B., what say you?” “This simply--the business shall be done.” “To the satisfaction of the parties concerned?” inquired Mr. Sloman. “Yes; or you may keep the four hundred.” “He is to be disposed of, so that he shall give no farther trouble. Remember that, Mr. Brown.” “The grave is the best security for that,” returned the host.