“Then you may depend he has seen or heard something, and gone alone to find out what it is rather than give any alarm.” “That is just what I think.” “It must be so. I will follow him, if you can show me exactly which way he went.” “That I can easily. And in case I should have made any mistake, which it is not at all likely, we can go to his room first and see if it is empty.” “A good thought, certainly; that will at once put an end to all doubt upon the question.” They both immediately proceeded to Charles’s room, and then the admiral’s accuracy of identification of his nephew was immediately proved by finding that Charles was not there, and that the window was wide open. “You see I am right,” said the admiral. “You are,” cried Henry; “but what have we here?” “Where?” “Here on the dressing-table. Here are no less than three letters, all laid as it on purpose to catch the eye of the first one who might enter the room.” “Indeed!” “You perceive them?” Henry held them to the light, and after a moment’s inspection of them, he said, in a voice of much surprise,— “Good God! what is the meaning of this?” “The meaning of what?” “The letters are addressed to parties in the house here. Do you not see?” “To whom?” “One to Admiral Bell——” “The deuce!” “Another to me, and the third to my sister Flora. There is some new mystery here.” The admiral looked at the superscription of one of the letters which was handed to him in silent amazement. Then he cried,— “Set down the light, and let us read them.” Henry did so, and then they simultaneously opened the epistles which were severally addressed to them. There was a silence, as of the very grave, for some moments, and then the old admiral staggered to a seat, as he exclaimed,— “Am I dreaming—am I dreaming?” “Is this possible?” said Henry, in a voice of deep emotion, as he allowed the note addressed to him to drop on to the floor. “D—n it, what does yours say?” cried the old admiral, in a louder tone. “Read it—what says yours?” “Read it—I’m amazed.” The letters were exchanged, and read by each with the same breathless attention they had bestowed upon their own; after which, they both looked at each other in silence, pictures of amazement, and the most absolute state of bewilderment. Not to keep our readers in suspense, we at once transcribe each of these letters. The one to the admiral contained these words,— “+My dear Uncle+, “Of course you will perceive the prudence of keeping this letter to yourself, but the fact is, I have now made up my mind to leave Bannerworth Hall. “Flora Bannerworth is not now the person she was when first I knew her and loved her. Such being the case, and she having altered, not I, she cannot accuse me of fickleness. “I still love the Flora Bannerworth I first knew, but I cannot make my wife one who is subject to the visitations of a vampyre.