Cassidy flushed with surprise and pleasure when he saw a chance of his getting mixed up with the Lavirotte affair. He told Grafton he would ask them to give him a holiday to-morrow, and between this afternoon and to-morrow there would be plenty of time to arrange everything about Lionel Crawford, as, no doubt, the inquest was held that day. Then Grafton brought Cassidy in and introduced him to Dora, and said that he would act in every way as though he were Grafton himself. Dora expressed her great gratitude. "You know," Cassidy said, "I shall go and see Mr. Lavirotte as soon as possible, and I have no doubt he will be glad to see me, for I come from the neighbourhood in which he lived, and know Glengowra thoroughly." Here the overwhelming desire to rise in importance in the eyes of Dora, pleasantly or otherwise, mastered him, and he said: "Perhaps you have seen the special edition of _The Evening Record?_" She said yes; that she had there first seen an account of the terrible affair. "It was I," said he, bowing and smiling, "who gave the information respecting the mysterious occurrence at Glengowra, of which you, doubtless, know." By this time he was, of course, aware he was talking to the girl to whom Lavirotte had made love when formerly in London. "I do not know anything about it," she whispered faintly. "I am exceedingly obliged to both of you." She said good-bye and went. When she was gone, Cassidy said: "Strange she doesn't know anything about the Glengowra affair. I don't think it right she should be kept in ignorance of it. However, Grafton, you haven't a minute to lose now. I'll be off down east and see what's to be done. I assure you nothing could give me greater pleasure than to act for you in this affair." CHAPTER VIII. When Eugene O'Donnell got the telegram he fell into despair. He durst not go to his father or his mother. Up to this his father had been in the very best spirits, fully anticipating deliverance at the hands of Lavirotte. Now what was to become of them? Ruin of the most complete kind stared them in the face. They would not have the least chance of saving anything from the wreck of their fortune, for James O'Donnell was a man of scrupulous honesty, and would not lend himself to the least kind of fraud. When everything was sold up they would not be able to pay more than a small portion of the last call, and Eugene knew his father too well to think he would conceal a single penny, or accept a favour at the hands of the bank. Eugene did not know what to do. The telegram came to him when he was alone. He read it three times, put it in his pocket, and went out to try if a walk in the air would help him.