About half way through the woods I saw the cliffs of which the landlord's daughter had warned me. In the dark they would have been dangerous indeed to one unfamiliar with them. At some time or other there had been a great landslip, which had opened up a chasm of great depth; in parts slight fences had been put up, but there were spaces entirely unprotected, and I was thankful we had been warned of the danger. It was half-past seven by my watch when we reached Glasserton, and I had no difficulty in finding the registrar's house. He was at home when I called, and did not receive me too cordially. He had been upset by the trial, and it was with the greatest difficulty I succeeded in obtaining a glance of the original entry of the marriage. It was only by bribery and threats that I effected my purpose, and I had to use extreme persuasion to induce him to grant me an interview with Jane Seebold. I elicited very little from her in consequence of the state of confusion she was in, but I was satisfied in my own mind that it was M. Felix who had tampered with the book. From her imperfect description of the man I judged that he must in some way have disguised himself for the purpose of the visit, and I was assisted to this conclusion partly by the height of her visitor, who she said was not a tall man. Dr. Peterssen was not less than six feet, and having to decide between him and M. Felix I decided unhesitatingly in favor of the latter. The registrar had been in Glasserton but three or four years, whereas Jane Seebold had been in it all her life, and I learned from her that two of the three witnesses to the marriage, the doctor and the old wagoner, had long been dead. At nine o'clock my inquiries were ended, and Sophy and I started back for the inn. "Tired, Sophy?" I asked. "Not a bit," she answered, cheerfully, "I could walk all night."