Tom Rain's countenance was overclouded for a moment; but almost immediately afterwards it expanded into an expression of mingled surprise and satisfaction; and snapping his fingers joyfully, he exclaimed, "Is it possible? could it have been _her_? Oh! this business is speedily settled!" And rising from his seat, he rang the bell violently. A pot-boy answered the summons. "Pen, ink, and paper, and a messenger to carry a letter," said Tom Rain, with extraordinary rapidity of utterance. The boy disappeared; and Old Death, recovering partially from the astonishment into which his companion's ejaculations and manner on reading the advertisement had thrown him, exclaimed, "What the devil are you after now?" "You shall see in a moment," was the reply; "but I don't promise you any explanation of what you _will_ see," he added with another hearty laugh. The boy returned, bringing writing materials, and intimating that he was willing to be the bearer of the letter. Tom Rain told him to wait; then, having hastily written a few lines upon a sheet of paper, he tossed the note over to Old Death, who read as follows:— "Remember the night of the 27th of October, 1819;—and stop the inquiries instituted in respect to the little business referred to by the advertisement in this morning's _Times_." "This is past all comprehension," exclaimed the old man, still keeping his eyes fixed upon the paper. "The note has not even a signature." "It does not require one," coolly observed Tom Rain, as he snatched the letter from his companion, and proceeded to fold it up. "And do you hope to crush the business by means of that scrap of writing?" asked Old Death, evidently perplexed what to think. "I don't merely hope—I am certain of accomplishing my object," was the reply. "Now mind you ain't deceiving yourself, Tom," said Old Death. "The man who has taken up the affair is persevering as a beaver and crafty as a fox. You may see that he is in earnest by the expedition he must have made to get the advertisement into this morning's paper. I should have hardly thought it possible to be done. However, done it is—and, though it gives no description of the person, yet it offers a good reward for his apprehension. No one knows what trivial circumstance may afford a trace; and——" "Enough of this, old friend," cried Tom; and handing the letter, now duly folded, wafered, and directed, to the boy, he said, "Take this to the address written upon it: see if there's any answer; and I shall wait here till you come back. Look alive—and you'll earn a crown by the job." The boy hastened away to execute the commission which he had received. "And so that was your business, Master Tom?" observed Old Death, as soon as the messenger had disappeared. "Well—you have made a good beginning: it promises bright things." "What! do you fancy that I haven't had plenty of experience down in the country?" cried Rainford. "Ah! I could tell you a tale or two—but no matter now."