The letter was a very long one, and took several minutes to read. Still Margaret waited, without speaking. Suddenly the old man’s arm dropped by the side of his chair, and he uttered a sound which was half a moan, half an inarticulate wail. ‘What is it, father?’ cried Margaret, springing to his side. ‘Something dreadful has happened. Oh! what is it?’ Her father gazed at her with stony features, without uttering a word. ‘Only tell me, father! Something is wrong with Alec. Is he ill?’ ‘Worse than that, my girl,’ said the old man, almost in a whisper. ‘Dead--is he dead? He cannot be dead.’ ‘It is worse than that,’ said Mr. Lindsay, in a louder tone. ‘He has----’ The words failed to come. He conquered his emotion, and spoke them with a cold, cruel distinctness. ‘He has stolen--or tried to steal--his uncle’s money. He is in prison.’ For a moment Margaret’s heart stood still. Then she seized Blake’s letter, which was lying on the floor, and began to read it. The old man sat gazing into the fire without speaking. ‘But he may be innocent!’ cried Margaret suddenly. ‘Mr. Blake does not believe him guilty. See; he says--“Of course I do not for one moment believe----”’ ‘Of course he says that,’ interrupted her father impatiently. ‘That is only his polite way of speaking.’ ‘But he _cannot_ be guilty.’ ‘None of us know what we may do till the temptation comes, Margaret. Besides, it is too clear. Your uncle imagined he was leaving all this money to the Free Church. Alec made him think he was doing so by reading the will wrongly. Dr. Mackenzie has sworn that he heard him do so with his own ears.’ ‘But James Semple says----’ ‘I noticed that,’ said Mr. Lindsay coldly. ‘Don’t you see, they would divide this immense sum of money between them? I would not take Semple’s word, in such a case, against that of a man like Dr. Mackenzie.’ ‘Are you going to London, father?’ asked the girl, after a pause. ‘Ay; I suppose so. In the morning.’ ‘You will let me go with you?’ ‘Nonsense, girl. Of what use could _you_ be?’ ‘Not much, perhaps; but we would be company for each other. Oh, father! I can’t stay here by myself!’ And the old man yielded a somewhat grudging consent. Late on the following afternoon they arrived in London. Blake had obtained from his uncle permission to invite them both to Highgate in the first instance, an invitation which Mr. Lindsay was very unwilling to accept. He wished to go to an hotel, but Margaret overruled him. ‘They will perhaps be offended if we don’t go; and we need only stay one night,’ she said.