She presently returned, and placed the casket on the table before Mrs. Griswold, who opened it and took out a large packet of letters, carefully arranged according to the date of their receipt, and tied with pink ribbon. 'They are all there,' she said sadly, as she handed the packet to Thornton Carey. 'I placed the last there on the day I expected to hear from him again--I little thought that story was true.' Still her face was unchanged and her eyes were tearless. The quick eye of the police-officer had seen another object lying at the bottom of the box from which Mrs. Griswold had taken her husband's letters. It was a prettily-bound and gilt manuscript-book, with a lock, indorsed in gold letters, 'My Journal.' 'I beg your pardon,' he said, advancing and laying his hand upon the open box, as Helen stretched out hers for the purpose of closing it; 'may I ask if this journal is yours?' 'It is,' she replied simply; 'it is my journal since the day of my husband's departure, kept at his request, written up for transmission to him by every mail, and copied into this book.' 'Madam,' said the police-officer, 'I have a difficulty in expressing the wish that you should confide this journal, not indeed to us, but to your friends. The smallest and most unexpected particular of the occurrences of your life and household at home may aid in this investigation. We are at present all abroad, and we must neglect no source of information within our reach. May I ask if you have recorded visits made to you, letters received by you, and any reports or impressions in any way connected with Mr. Griswold's business, of which he unfortunately kept you in ignorance, which may have reached you during his absence?' 'I do not think so,' said Helen. 'I know it is very full of gossiping and trivial things, as well as of the daily occupations of my life; but such as it is, Mr. Carey and Mr. Bryan Duval are perfectly at liberty to read it, and, indeed, you gentlemen also, should you think it well to do so. I had but a simple story to tell, and I have told it simply.' With the same gentleness, the same mechanical steadiness that had marked her conduct throughout, Helen removed the manuscript-book from the box, and handed it, not to Thornton Carey, but to Bryan Duval, who received it from her hands in silence and with a bow. He was infinitely touched by the whole scene, and by the almost solemn simplicity of the young widow. As had been arranged on their way, the two police-officers now took leave of Mrs. Griswold, Thornton Carey and Bryan Duval remaining with her for a few minutes after their departure. On leaving her they were to go direct to the telegraph-office, to send the despatch in the terms agreed upon to Trenton Warren. 'I fear you are extremely exhausted,' said Thornton Carey, when he and Duval remained alone with Helen. 'This has been a most trying ordeal for you; but I trust it will be the last.'