'They--they,' repeated Captain Lake. 'Why, of course, Sir, I use the word in its usual sense--that is, there was a rumour when I was last in town, and I really forget who told me. Some one, two, or three, perhaps.' 'Do you think it's true, Sir?' persisted Mr. Larkin. 'No, Sir, I don't,' said Captain Lake, fixing his eyes for a moment with a frank stare on the attorney's face; 'but it is quite possible it _may_ be true.' 'If it _is_, you know, Sir,' said Jos. Larkin, 'the reversion would be a bad purchase at a halfpenny. I don't believe it either, Sir,' resumed the attorney, after a little interval; 'and I could not advise the party you named, Sir, to sell his remainder for a song.' 'You'll advise as you please, Sir, and no doubt not without sufficient reason,' retorted Captain Lake. There was a suspicion of a sneer--not in his countenance, not in his tone, not necessarily in his words--but somehow a suspicion, which stung the attorney like a certainty, and a pinkish flush tinged his forehead. Perhaps Mr. Larkin had not yet formed any distinct plans, and was really in considerable dubitation. But as we know, perceiving that the situation of affairs, like all uncertain conjunctures, offered manifestly an opportunity for speculation, he was, perhaps, desirous, like our old friend, Sindbad, of that gleam of light which might show him the gold and precious stones with which the floor of the catacomb was strewn. 'You see, Captain Lake, to speak quite frankly--there's nothing like being perfectly frank and open--although you have not treated me with confidence, which, of course, was not called for in this particular instance--I may as well say, in passing, that I have no doubt on my mind you know a great deal more than you care to tell about the fate of Mr. Mark Wylder. I look upon it, Sir, that that party has been made away with.' 'Old villain!' exclaimed Lake, starting up, with a sudden access of energy, and his face looked whiter still than usual--perhaps it was only the light. 'It won't do, Sir,' said Larkin, with a sinister quietude. 'I say there's been _foul play_. I think, Sir, you've got him into some foreign mad-house, or place of confinement, and I won't stop till it's sifted to the bottom. It is my duty, Sir.' Captain Lake's slender hand sprang on the attorney's collar, coat and waistcoat together, and his knuckles, hard and sharp, were screwed against Mr. Larkin's jaw-bone, as he shook him, and his face was like a drift of snow, with two yellow fires glaring in it. It was ferine and spectral, and so tremendously violent, that the long attorney, expecting nothing of the sort, was thrown out of his balance against the chimneypiece. 'You d--d old miscreant! I'll pitch you out of the window.'