'It is odd enough--very odd,' said Larkin. 'It was only an hour since, in conversation with our policeman, Edwards, that I mentioned the fact of my having myself travelled from London to Shillingsworth last night with Mr. Mark Wylder, who went on by train in this direction, I presume, to meet our unfortunate friend, Captain Lake, by appointment. Thomas Sleddon, of Wadding Hall--at this moment in the "Brandon Arms"--is just the man; if you mention it to him, he'll go up with you to Redman's Farm, and take the deposition. Let it be a _deposition_, do you mind; a statement is mere hearsay.' Comforted somewhat, reassured in a certain way, and in strong hopes that, at all events, such a muddle would be established as to bewilder the jury, Mr. Jos. Larkin, with still an awful foreboding weighing at his heart, knocked at the vicar's door, and was shown into the study. A solitary candle being placed, to make things bright and pleasant for the visitor, who did not look so himself, the vicar, very pale, and appearing to have grown even thinner since he last saw him, entered, and shook his hand with an anxious attempt at a smile, which faded almost instantly. 'I am so delighted that you have come. I have passed a day of such dreadful agitation. Poor Mark!' 'There is no doubt, Sir, whatsoever that he is perfectly well. Three different persons--unexceptionable witnesses--can depose to having seen him last night, and he had a long conference with Captain Lake, who is by this time making his deposition. It is with respect to the other little matter--the execution of the deed of conveyance to Messrs. Burlington and Smith's clients. You know my feeling about the note I wrote this morning a little--I will not say incautiously, because with a client of your known character and honour, no idea of the sort can find place--but I will say thoughtlessly. If there be any hanging back, or appearance of it, it may call down unpleasant--indeed, to be quite frank, ruinous--consequences, which, I think, in the interest of your family, you would hardly be justified in invoking upon the mere speculation of your respected brother's death.' There was a sound of voices at the door. 'Do come in--pray do,' was heard in Dolly's voice. 'Won't you excuse me, but pray do. Willie, darling, don't you wish him to come in?' 'Most particularly. Do _beg_ of him, in my name--and I know Mr. Larkin would wish it so much.' And so Lord Chelford, with a look which, at another time, would have been an amused one, quite conscious of the oddity of his introduction, came in and slightly saluted Mr. Larkin, who was for a few seconds pretty obviously confounded, and with a pink flush all over his bald forehead, tried to smile, while his hungry little eyes searched the viscount with fear and suspicion.