DEAR STRANGE,--Have you seen the news in to-day's paper? I have just caught sight of it. If the _Vengeance_ has foundered, or whatever the mishap may be, and Tom Heriot should be one of the escaped prisoners, he will be sure to make his way home. Rely upon it he has not grown less reckless than he was, but probably has become more so. What trouble may not come of it? Do try and get at the particulars officially, as to whether there's truth in the report, or not; and let me know without delay. Very truly yours, LEVEL. Letters from Paris and the Continent generally were then usually delivered about mid-day. I was talking with Lennard in the front office when this one arrived. The clerks had gone to dinner. "Have you heard the rumour about the ship _Vengeance_, Lennard?" I asked, laying down Lord Level's letter. "I read it yesterday," he answered. "I wonder how I could learn whether there's any foundation for it?" Before he could answer me, we were interrupted by Major Carlen. He was in his usual state of excitement; his face lengthened, his arms thrown about, and his everlasting blue cloak trailing about him. I slipped the letter into my desk. "Here's a pretty go, Charles!" he exclaimed. "Have you heard of it yet? That convict ship's gone to the bottom, and Tom Heriot has escaped." "You should not assert that so positively, Major Carlen," I remonstrated. "It is not certain that any of the men have escaped, I suppose. If they have, Tom Heriot may not be one of them." "But they have escaped," stuttered the gray old man, plumping himself down on a stool, around which his cloak fell like so much drapery. "Five have got off, and Tom is one of them." "How do you know that?" "How do I know it? How could I tell you if I didn't know it? Half an hour ago I met Percival in Downing Street, and he told me." What little hope had been left within me took wings and flew away. Percival was First Lord of the Admiralty. He would certainly know the truth. "Government has had official news of it," went on the Major gloomily; "and with it a list of the fugitives." "And Tom's name is amongst them?" "Tom's name is amongst them." There was a pause. Lennard had gone into the other room. Major Carlen rose, saying something about lunch waiting for him at his club. "Mark you, Charles: if Tom takes it into that rattle-pate of his to worm his way back to these shores, there may be the devil to pay. I hope with all my heart Level won't hear of this. The disgrace has been a precious thorn to him from the first." "Blanche knows nothing at all of the matter as yet. She thinks Tom is with his regiment in India. The last time I saw her in Paris, not long before Mr. Brightman's death, she asked me what could be the reason Tom did not write to her."