He had very good reasons for not going to Scotland Yard, so he betook himself to the office of Eversleigh, Silwood, and Eversleigh, whose name appeared at the foot of the advertisement offering the thousand pounds reward. He told his tale to Francis Eversleigh, with whom at that time was Gilbert. The latter had been hurriedly sent for by his father on a matter of the most urgent importance. They were anxiously discussing it, when Williamson had come in and announced that there was a man below who had called in answer to the advertisement respecting Thornton's disappearance. "He says he has information, but he would not disclose it to me," remarked Williamson, in an injured tone. The head-clerk felt hurt that morning. He knew that Francis Eversleigh had received a letter from Italy, and he suspected it had something to do with Mr. Cooper Silwood. He had even ventured to put an indirect question about it to Francis Eversleigh, but with no success. Instead, that gentleman had told him to go and fetch Gilbert at once from the Temple, or if he was not there to hunt him up and bring him. He now saw from Gilbert's face, as well as from Francis Eversleigh's, that something very grave was being discussed. On the table lay two papers, one of which was partly printed, while the other was a long, closely-written letter. Before withdrawing, Williamson tried to see what was on the former, but could not. "I suppose we must have this man in," said Gilbert to his father. "Yes, yes," assented Francis. He said it with the air of one to whom nothing could ever much matter again. "I cannot bear it--I cannot bear it!" he exclaimed suddenly, after Williamson had left the room. "It is too much!" "Bear up, father--bear up!" cried Gilbert, little understanding all that was in his father's mind. But the wreck was at the door. Ragged, tattered, with patched boots and a greasy cap, with pinched features and a general appearance of having gone irremediably to the bad, the wreck yet bore himself well, and when he spoke his language and accent were those of a gentleman. He looked at the two Eversleighs, and addressing the older asked if he were Mr. Eversleigh. Francis Eversleigh bowed to the wreck, who had once been a gentleman. "I am Francis Eversleigh," he said; "this is my son Gilbert. You have something to tell us?" he suggested. "Yes; but first I wish to say that my information by itself may not be of much use. Still, I think it may put you on the track. If that is the case, I wish you to promise me that I shall have some share of the reward." "That will be only fair." "Mr. Thornton," said the wreck, without further preface, "disappeared on the night of Friday, July 30th. He went out for a stroll in Holborn, and was to go into Chancery Lane. I was in Chancery Lane that night, and I saw something that struck me as very curious." The wreck paused impressively. "What was it you saw?" asked Gilbert.