"I am sorry to learn," continued Mark Inglefield, "that this man has been wronged, and sorry to learn that trouble has come to him through his daughter. They are both entire strangers to me. What I ask is that he bring his daughter forward now to corroborate my statement that she and I never saw each other in all our lives." "But that," said one of Mr. Parkinson's friends, "is just what he can't do. His daughter has strangely disappeared in the night." Mark Inglefield turned towards Mr. Manners, with a smile of incredulity on his lips. "Our errand here seems to be wasted. Let me speak to you a moment out of hearing of these people." The working-men moved aside to allow the two gentlemen to pass, and when they were a little apart Mark Inglefield said: "I hope you are satisfied, sir." "So far as you are concerned," replied Mr. Manners, "I cannot help being. But there is something still at the bottom of this that I would give much to get at the truth of." "Why, sir," said Mark Inglefield, scornfully, "can you not see that the whole affair is trumped up?" "No, I cannot see that. These men were not aware that we were coming here this morning, and even if they were it is not likely that they would have got up this excitement for our especial benefit." Mark Inglefield bit his lip. "I am not quite right, perhaps, in saying that the whole affair is trumped up, but undoubtedly it is much exaggerated, and more importance is being attached to it than it deserves. You must not mind my saying that I cannot form the same opinion of Mr. Parkinson as yourself. It seems to me that he is desirous of making capital out of his calamity. I have done all I could, have I not, to clear myself of the charge?" "I do not see that you could have done more." "There is nothing more to stop for, then. Shall we go?" "Not yet. You may, if you wish, but I shall remain to make inquiries." "I will remain with you, sir, of course. It would not be safe to leave you alone in such a neighborhood as this." "It would be quite safe. You forget that it was in just such neighborhoods I passed my young days. I know them better than you appear to do, Inglefield. The people we see about us are respectable members of society--quite as respectable as ourselves. As to remaining, please yourself. I do not feel at all out of place in such society." "Nor do I, sir," said Mark Inglefield, with a frank smile. "It is only my anxiety for you that made me say what I did." "There is another matter which you seem to have forgotten. It is in this neighborhood that my son and his wife and daughter live, If I am not mistaken, Mr. Parkinson wishes to say something to us." During this colloquy Mr. Parkinson had calmed himself greatly, and now, followed by his friends, approached the gentlemen. "I should like to ask you a question or two," he said, addressing himself to Mark Inglefield, "if you have no objection."