"That's my name," Cyril answered, with a faint blush on his cheek. "Do you want to speak to me?" "Yes, sir; there's half-a-crown to pay for porterage, if you please. A telegram for you, sir." Cyril pulled out the half-a-crown, and tore open the telegram. Its contents were indeed enough to startle him. It was dated "Cape Town," and was as brief as is the wont of cable messages at nine shillings a word-- "Coming home immediately to repay everything and stand my trial. Kelmscott accompanies me. All well.--GUY WARING." Cyril looked at it with a gasp, and handed it on to Elma. Elma took it in her dainty gloved fingers, and read it through with keen eyes of absorbing interest. Cyril sighed a profound sigh. Elma glanced back at him all triumph. "I told you so," she said, in a very jubilant voice. "He wouldn't do that if he didn't KNOW he was innocent." At the very same second, a blustering voice was heard above the murmur in the hall without. "What, half-a-crown for porterage!" it exclaimed in indignant tones. "Why, that's a clear imposition. The people at my house ought never to have sent it on. It's addressed to Woodlands. Unimportant, unimportant! Here, Gwendoline, take your message--some milliner's or dressmaker's appointment for to-morrow, I suppose. Half-a-crown for porterage! They'd no right to bring it." Gwendoline took the telegram with trembling hands, tore it open all quivers, and broke into a cry of astonishment. Then she fell all at once into her father's arms. Elma understood it all. It was a similar message from Granville Kelmscott to tell the lady of his heart he was coming home to marry her. Sir Gilbert, somewhat flustered, called for water in haste, and revived the fainting girl by bathing her temples. At last he took up the cause of the mischief himself. As he read it his own face turned white as death. Elma noticed that, too. And no wonder it did--for these were the words of that unexpected message-- "Coming home to claim you by the next mail. Guy Waring accompanies me.--GRANVILLE KELMSCOTT." CHAPTER XXXIX. A GLEAM OF LIGHT. Next day but one, the Companion of St. Michael and St. George came in to Craighton with evil tidings. He had heard in the village that Sir Gilbert Gildersleeve was ill--very seriously ill. The judge had come home from the Holkers' the other evening much upset by the arrival of Gwendoline's telegram.