“They conversed a few moments longer, and then arose and left the room. I judged that they had met there at the request of the lady who was going abroad, simply to take leave of each other, and I thought no more of the affair until I took my seat in the evening train for Edinburgh, whence I was to go to Glasgow to await the sailing of a steamer for home. A lady entered just after I was seated, and while giving some directions to the porter who brought in her luggage, her voice struck me as familiar. Still I could not place her—indeed I was very sure I had never seen her before, and being exceedingly wary I settled myself in a corner and was soon fast asleep. When I awoke it was very dark outside, though the coach lamps burned dimly above me, and I found myself alone in the compartment; my companion, whoever she might have been, had left the train. “Judging from the cramped condition I was in, I must have slept a long time and very soundly. I arose to stretch myself and change my position, when my foot struck some object on the floor. I stooped and picked up the package. Taking it nearer to the light I found that its seal was stamped simply with a coat of arms, while there was written on the back of the wrapper, ‘To be destroyed, unopened, in the event of my death.’ “Instantly it flashed upon me that the lady of the familiar voice, who had been my companion, was one of the women who had been in the ladies’ parlor at the hotel that afternoon, and that this was the very package intrusted to her care by her friend. Of course I would not presume to open the package to ascertain to whom it belonged, and I had not the faintest idea what to do with it, for no names had been called during that interview to enlighten me as to the identity of the ladies.