This legal instrument was attested by two witnesses, and bore date about a week before the interview, just related, between the vicar and Mr. Larkin. Here, then, was a fact established. Mark Wylder had returned from Boulogne, for the power of attorney had been executed at Brighton. Who were the witnesses? One was Thomas Tupton, of the Travellers' Hotel, Brighton. This Thomas Tupton was something of a sporting celebrity, and a likely man enough to be of Mark's acquaintance. The other witness was Sir Julius Hockley, of Hockley, an unexceptionable evidence, though a good deal on the turf. Now our friend Jos. Larkin had something of the Red Indian's faculty for tracking his game, by hardly perceptible signs and tokens, through the wilderness; and this mystery of Mark Wylder's flight and seclusion was the present object of his keen and patient pursuit. On receipt of the 'instrument,' therefore, he wrote by return of post, 'presenting his respectful compliments to Sir Julius Hockley, and deeply regretting that, as solicitor of the Wylder family, and the _gentleman_ (_sic_) empowered to act under the letter of attorney, it was imperative upon him to trouble him (Sir Julius H.) with a few interrogatories, which he trusted he would have no difficulty in answering.' The first was, whether he had been acquainted with Mr. Mark Wylder's personal appearance before seeing him sign, so as to be able to identify him. The second was, whether he (Mr. M.W.) was accompanied, at the time of executing the instrument, by any friend; and if so, what were the name and address of such friend. And the third was, whether he could communicate any information whatsoever respecting Mr. M.W.'s present place of abode? The same queries were put in a somewhat haughty and peremptory way to the sporting hotel-keeper, who answered that Mr. Mark Wylder had been staying for a week at his house, about five months ago; and that he had seen him twice--once 'backing' Jonathan, when he beat the great American billiard-player; and another time, when he lent him his copy of 'Bell's Life,' in the coffee-room; and thus he was enabled to identify him. For the rest he could say nothing. Sir Julius's reply was of the hoity-toity and rollicking sort, bordering in parts very nearly on nonsense, and generally impertinent. It reached Mr. Larkin as he sat at breakfast with his friend, Stanley Lake. 'Pray read your letters, and don't mind me, I entreat. Perhaps you will allow me to look at the "Times;" and I'll trouble you for the sardines.' The postmark 'Hockley,' stared the lawyer in the face; and, longing to break the seal, he availed himself of the captain's permission. So Lake opened the 'Times;' and, as he studied its columns, I think he stole a glance or two over its margin at the attorney, now deep in the letter of Sir Julius Hockley.