"Yes, sir," replied Tatlow, "the child lived, and fell very comfortably upon its legs. It was a bright, pretty little creature, and one day it attracted the notice of a lady who had no children of her own, and, after some inquiries, persuaded her husband to adopt it." "What is her name, and where does she live?" asked Mr. Statham. "She lives at Hendon, sir, and her name is Claxton. Mr. Claxton is, oddly enough, a sleeping partner in the house of Mr. Calverley, whose good lady first recommended E. M. to Mivenson's, as you may recollect." There was silence for full ten minutes--a period which Mr. Tatlow occupied in a deep consultation with his note-book, in looking out of window, at the tips of his boots, at the wall in front of him; anywhere rather than at the bowed head of Humphrey Statham, who remained motionless, with his chin buried in his chest. Mr. Tatlow had seen a good deal of suffering in his time, and as he noticed, without apparently looking at the tremulous emotion of Mr. Statham's hands, tremulous despite their closely-interlaced fingers, and the shudder which from time to time ran through his massive frame, he knew what silent anguish was being bravely undergone, and would on no account have allowed the sufferer to imagine that his mental tortures were either seen or understood. When Humphrey Statham at length raised his head, he found his visitor intently watching the feeble gyrations of a belated fly, and apparently perfectly astonished at hearing his name mentioned. "Mr. Tatlow," said Humphrey, in a voice which, despite his exertions to raise it, sounded low and muffled, "I am very much your debtor; what I said at the commencement of our interview about the delay which, as I imagined, had occurred in clearing-up this mystery, was spoken in ignorance, and without any knowledge of the facts. I now see the difficulties attendant upon the inquiry, and I am only astonished that they should have been so successfully surmounted, and that you should have been enabled to clear-up the case as perfectly as you have done. That the result of your inquiries has been to arouse in me the most painful memories, and to--and to reduce me in fact to the state in which you see me--is no fault of yours. You have discharged your duty with great ability and wondrous perseverance, and I have to thank you more than all for the delicacy which you have shown during the inquiry, and during the narration to me of its results." Mr. Tatlow bowed, but said nothing. "For the ordinary charges of the investigation," continued Humphrey Statham, "your travelling expenses and suchlike, I settle, I believe, with the people at Scotland-yard; but," he added, as he took his cheque-book from the right-hand drawer of his desk, "I wish you to accept for yourself this cheque for fifty pounds, together with my hearty thanks." He filled-up the cheque, tore it from the book, and pushed it over to the detective as he spoke, at the same time holding out his hand.