"I can write no more. Perhaps I shall find a note from you at the post office in Southampton Row: I hope so—and I also hope that I may discover in it some cause of satisfaction to myself. Adieu—dearest, adieu. "ESTHER." The contents of this letter sadly puzzled Old Death. They were quite different from what he had expected to find them; but without waiting to reflect upon their nature, he obtained a piece of sealing-wax from the waiter, and so cleverly closed the letter again that even a clerk in the General Post-Office could not have told it had been opened. He then retraced his way to the shop in Holborn where it was originally posted, and threw it back into the box. This being done, he bent his way towards Toby Bunce's house in Earl Street, Seven Dials. CHAPTER XXIII. OLD DEATH. When Bones reached the place whither he had bent his steps, he learnt to his satisfaction that Toby Bunce had been sent out by his wife on some errand which would keep him at least an hour away. He accordingly followed Mrs. Bunce into the back room, and explained to her all that had occurred. Having stated how he and Jacob had followed Esther in the hackney-coach from Southampton Row to Holborn, he said—"When Jacob first pointed her out to me as she was reading a letter in a shop, I felt sure he must be mistaken; for I could not conceive why she should be up at that part of the town, since from what Jacob discovered last night, I thought she was certainly living with Tom Rain in Lock's Fields. However, I determined to follow her; and when she got down at a shop in Holborn, I told Jacob to jump out and get another good look at her, if possible. But, instead of going into the shop, she merely stopped there to post a letter; and Jacob was quick enough to catch sight of the address. Well, when he came back to me, and told me what that address was, I desired him to follow her directly; for I thought that if she was writing to Tom Rain, it was clear she didn't live with him, and therefore it was as well to find out where she does live." "To be sure," said Mrs. Bunce approvingly. "Then it struck me," continued Old Death, "that if I could only get sight of the contents of that letter which she had posted to Tom Rain, it might open some farther clue to the nature of their connexion. And I did get the letter——" "Oh! you clever fellow!" interrupted Betsy, shaking her head with mock gravity. "But what did the letter say?" "Why, it was a regular sermon," answered Old Death. "It talked about how much she loved him—all she had done and suffered on his account—and a lot of gammon of that kind. She told him how her father had made her take an oath not to see him any more, and how unhappy she was. Then she begged of him to repent and leave a course of life that is sure to end at Tuck-up Fair." "Did she use them words?" demanded Mrs. Bunce.