'So far so good,' said Uffington, raising himself on his elbow. 'Those charming people, Messrs. Moss, have obeyed my instructions implicitly, and that earth is stopped. By which means by friend will be more readily brought to book, that is all! How right I was years ago to make a resolution never to read letters which I might find awaiting me on my return home late at night, and what singular resolution I must have had to keep to it! It was a sensible thing--the idea of having oneself upset, and one's valuable night's rest scared away, for something which could not be remedied! To be sure, I could not resist a glance at that telegram last night, because I knew it would have no actual effect on the position of affairs; and if it turned out right--as has happily proved the case--could only make me a little more secure in the saddle. But here is something else,' taking up a twisted scrap, 'this note which Madame de Nerval left in my hand when I took my leave of her. Now certainly I deserve credit for having left that unread up to this time. What does it say? "I have guessed your secret. You _hate_ Lord Forestfield, and have come here determined to ruin him. There is a woman in this; I know it, my jealousy tells me so. For he is not the only one whose peace of mind you have destroyed. Let me see you very soon. _A toi_.--M." 'Exactly so,' said Uffington to himself, laying down the paper with a cynical smile. 'To him that hath, &c. The vagrant dies of starvation in the ditch, and the philosopher is too lazy to take his hands from his pockets, but bites at the peaches as they hang a-ripening on the wall. I fear I shall not be able to obey your commands, fair lady, for by this evening I expect my mission will be accomplished and I shall have left Paris. Everything has succeeded with me exactly as I could have wished. Forestfield must be on the brink of ruin, and this news about the mortgage deprives him of his only chance of escape. Will he face ruin, or accept the alternative I offer? The alternative, without a doubt. When I show him, as I shall, that he has not the remotest hope of obtaining that for which he has been playing for the last twelvemonth; when I point out to him, as I shall, that without my aid he must be made a bankrupt, and henceforth live, like other bankrupt peers, on his title and his wits; when I make clear to him how little I require in proportion to what I give--he will come to my terms. And such a success will amply repay the trouble and the cost which have been necessary to secure it. It has been loathsome enough to live once more in what is called society, and to look on at all the miserable meanness and petty spite by which those moving in it are governed. It has been heart-sickening to see this woman shunned, tabooed, and pointed at by a world which still continues to receive this hound, and dares not say openly, "You are a scoundrel, whose ill conduct has