LARCOM, THE BUTLER, VISITS THE ATTORNEY. Now I may as well mention here an occurrence which, seeming very insignificant, has yet a bearing upon the current of this tale, and it is this. About four days after the receipt of the despatches to which the conference of Captain Lake and the attorney referred, there came a letter from the same prolific correspondent, dated 20th March, from Genoa, which altogether puzzled Mr. Larkin. It commenced thus:-- 'Genoa: 20th march. 'DEAR LARKIN,--I hope you did the three commissions all right. Wealdon won't refuse, I reckon--but don't let Lake guess what the 150_l._ is for. Pay Martin for the job when finished; it is under 60_l._. mind; and get it looked at first.' There was a great deal more, but these were the passages which perplexed Larkin. He unlocked the iron safe, and took out the sheaf of Wylder's letters, and conned the last one over very carefully. 'Why,' said he, holding the text before his eyes in one hand and with the fingers of the other touching the top of his bald forehead, 'Tom Wealdon is not once mentioned in this, nor in any of them; and this palpably refers to some direction. And 150_l._?--no such sum has been mentioned. And what is this job of Martin's? Is it Martin of the China Kilns, or Martin of the bank? That, too, plainly refers to a former letter--not a word of the sort. This is very odd indeed.' Larkin's finger-tips descended over his eyebrow, and scratched in a miniature way there for a few seconds, and then his large long hand descended further to his chin, and his under-lip was, as usual in deep thought, fondled and pinched between his finger and thumb. 'There has plainly been a letter lost, manifestly. I never knew anything wrong in this Gylingden office. Driver has been always correct; but it is hard to know any man for certain in this world. I don't think the captain would venture anything so awfully hazardous. I really can't suspect so monstrous a thing; but, _unquestionably_, a letter _has_ been lost--and who's to _take_ it?' Larkin made a fuller endorsement than usual on this particular letter, and ruminated over the correspondence a good while, with his lip between his finger and thumb, and a shadow on his face, before he replaced it in its iron drawer. 'It is not a thing to be passed over,' murmured the attorney, who had come to a decision as to the first step to be taken, and he thought with a qualm of the effect of one of Wylder's confidential notes getting into Captain Lake's hands. While he was buttoning his walking boots, with his foot on the chair before the fire, a tap at his study door surprised him. A hurried glance on the table satisfying him that no secret paper or despatch lay there, he called-- 'Come in.'