Ere many minutes elapsed, ere he had attempted to touch a morsel of breakfast, a gentleman was shown in. It was Mr. Plunkett: a stout man in spectacles, with a large red nose. He had the _Times_ in his hand. Captain Andinnian's paper lay open on the breakfast table; Captain Andinnian's face, as he rose to receive his visitor, betrayed its own story. "I see; you have read the tidings," began Mr. Plunkett, sitting down. "It is a dreadful thing." "Do--do you think there's any chance that it may not be true?" he rejoined in an imploring tone. "There's not the slightest as to the main fact--that Sir Adam is dead," replied the lawyer decisively. "What _could_ he have been thinking of, to hazard it?" Karl sat shading his face. "I'll tell you what it is, sir--there was a spice of madness in your brother's composition, I said so when he shot Scott. There must have been. And who, but a madman, would try to get away from Portland Island?" "Nay. A rash act, Mr. Plunkett; but not one that implies madness." There ensued a silence. These interviews are usually attended by embarrassment. "I have intruded on you this morning to express my best sympathy, and to ask whether I can be of any service to you, Captain Andinnian," resumed the lawyer. "I beg your pardon: Sir Karl, I ought to say." Karl had raised his head in resentment--in defiance. It caused the lawyer's break. "Nay, but you are Sir Karl, sir. You succeed to your brother." "The reminder grated on me, Mr. Plunkett." "The title's yours and the estates are yours. Every earthly thing is yours." "Yes, yes; I suppose so." "Well, if we can do anything for you, Sir Karl, down there"--indicating with a nod of his head the direction in which Portland Island might be supposed to lie--"or at Foxwood, you have only to send to us. I hope you understand that I am not speaking now with a view to business, but as a friend," concluded Mr. Plunkett. "I'll say no more now, for I see you are not yourself." "Indeed I am not," replied Karl. "I thank you all the same. As soon as I can I must get down to my mother." The lawyer said good morning, and left him to his breakfast. But Karl had no appetite: then, or for many a day to come. Calling for his bill, he took his departure. Never had Karl imagined distress and anguish so great as that which he witnessed on his arrival at Weymouth. For once all his mother's pride of power had deserted her. She flung herself at the feet of Karl, demanding _why_ he did not persist in his objection to the contemplated attempt, and interfere openly, even by declaring all to the governor of Portland prison, and so save his brother. It was altogether too distressing for Karl to bear. The first account was in the main correct. Adam Andinnian and the warder were both dead: the one shot, the other drowned.