At the last words uttered by Mr Whittrick, Charley Vining started forward, and gazed at the speaker as if he would have devoured the ordinary-looking slip of paper rustling before him. It was with the greatest difficulty that he refrained from snatching the memorandum from its holder; for in every respect save one, Mr Whittrick, of the black-velvet cap, was outwardly an excessively slow man. He had crawled to the speaking-tube and crawled back, and when he took the slip of paper from the clerk, it was as if the effort was too much for him—so much, in fact, that he had hard work to wipe his double eyeglasses.

But we said that there was an exception, and this lay in Mr Whittrick’s eyes, which gave a sharpness to his whole appearance, as they twinkled and darted and played as it were, while they displayed the activity of their owner’s brains.

But, apparently satisfied that if he kept him waiting half an hour longer, Charley Vining would not say anything that would be of service for information of any kind, Mr Whittrick commenced reading:

“9th instant. Miss Ella Bedford, age about twenty; fair; grey eyes; thick braided hair—not false; height about five feet two; dressed in deep mourning; arrived by forty-five, a.m., train from Laneton. Robert Wilks, porter, Number 93, called four-wheeled cab, V.R. 09876, John Round driver. Luggage: canvas-covered box, black enamelled bag, and leather wallet, not addressed. Set down at 19 Crescent Villas, Regent’s-park—Mr Saint Clair Marter’s. Cab man paid. No farther communication; but footman averse to taking in luggage, whether from idleness or particular reasons not known; shall know shortly, if necessary. Cab returned to terminus.”

“Let me see,” continued Mr Whittrick, turning the paper on the other side. “No, that is all we know at present;” and he looked at Charley, who, mute with astonishment, was staring hard at him.

“Why, good heavens! how did you know that?” he cried. “That is all I wanted to know.”

“At present—at present!” said Mr Whittrick, with a smile.

“But I expected days of waiting and anxiety,” cried Charley, eagerly seizing the paper.

“Possibly,” said Mr Whittrick; “but there are times, you see, when we are speedy in our movements.”

“But I am astounded!” cried Charley. “You make me almost to believe in magicians.”

Mr Whittrick smiled deprecatingly and shrugged his shoulders.

“How did you obtain the information?” cried Charley.

“My d............