Allen looked on the manuscript thus suddenly produced in mute wonder. With a swift glance he questioned Dora as to what it was--for he could not yet bring himself to believe that it was the lost paper--and how she had come by it. The girl afforded him at once a explanation.  
"It is the paper containing an account of the early life of Mr. Edermont," said she, with a nod; "the manuscript stolen from the bureau, on account of which we believe the murder to have been perpetrated. I found it in the cottage of Joad."
 
"In the cottage of Joad?" echoed Allen slowly. "How did he come by it?"
 
"By robbery and murder. He is the guilty person."
 
"Dora--are you sure? He proved an , you know."
 
"I am aware of that, and I am aware also how he prepared such alibi. It is a long story, Allen. I shall tell it to you, and then we will read the manuscript together."
 
"I am all attention," cried Allen, settling himself on the sofa. "Go on, you most wonderful girl."
 
"I am a most unfortunate girl," said Dora sadly. "By my discovery I have saved you from arrest, and perhaps , and myself from a marriage which revolted me. But what is left after all, my dear? Nothing, nothing. We can never be anything but friends to one another, for our lives have been ruined by the sins of other people. It is cruelly hard."
 
"You speak only too truly, Dora," said Allen, taking her hand. "And I can give you no comfort; I can give myself no . Your father's crime has parted us, and we must suffer vicariously for his ."
 
For a moment or so they remained silent, thinking over the hopelessness of their position. But matters were too important and pressing to admit of much time being wasted in useless lamentations. Dora was the first to recover her speech, and forthwith related the events of the day, from the conversation of Meg Gance down to the visit to Carver. Allen interrupted her frequently with of surprise.
 
"You are right, Dora!" he cried when she had ended. "How wonderfully you have worked out the matter! Without doubt Joad was hidden in the house while Lady Burville saw Edermont. After she left, he must have killed his friend, and secured the manuscript. No doubt he hid again when he heard me coming, and saw me, not in the road, as he , but in the study. Oh, the ! and he would have saved his neck at the expense of mine!"
 
"He had not even that excuse, Allen; for, owing to his manipulation of the hall clock, there was absolutely no suspicion that he was guilty. He accused you to gain me, but now I have caught him in his own trap, and no doubt Mr. Carver will have him arrested this night."
 
"I hope so," said Dr. Scott angrily; "he is a wicked old ruffian! But I cannot understand why he killed Mr. Edermont."
 
"The manuscript may inform us," said Dora, taking it up. "Let us read it at once."
 
Allen consented eagerly, and Dora, smoothing the pages, began to read what may be termed the of Julian Dargill, Edermont. Some parts of the were told, others expanded beyond all due bounds; and as a literary attempt the story was a failure. But for style or of language the young couple cared little. They wished to learn the truth, and they found it in the handwriting of the dead man.
 
"'My name is Julian Dargill,'" began the manuscript . "'I was born at Christchurch, in Hants, where my family lived for many generations. My parents died whilst I was at , and at the age of twenty I found myself my own master. For ten years I travelled in the company of a young man whom I had met at the University. He was not a gentleman, but he had a clever brain, and was an amusing companion, so I paid his expenses for the pleasure of his conversation and company. When I returned home, I left Mallison--for such was his name, John Mallison--in my London rooms, and came down to my house at Christchurch. Here I took up my residence, and here I fell in love with Laura Burville. She was a charming blonde, delicate and tiny as a fairy, full of life and . Her face was singularly beautiful, her figure perfection, and she had the gift of bringing sunshine wherever she went. Needless to say, I fell deeply in love with her, and would have made her my wife but for the foolish behaviour of her parents. These were religious of peculiarly principles, and they of my tendency to a gay life. How they came to have so charming a daughter I could never understand. Miss Treherne--or shall I call her by the fonder name of Laura?--had three suitors--myself, Dr. Scott, a , and Captain George Carew, of the merchant service. Scott was a handsome and clever man, but poor, and reckless in his way of life. His wife had died when his son Allen was born, and Scott left the child to be brought up by the nurse while he went with all the pretty girls in the country. Mr. and Mrs. Treherne disapproved of him also on account of this behaviour. So far as I saw, neither Dr. Scott nor myself had any chance of marrying Laura, for her parents favoured the suit of her third admirer, George Carew. I hated and feared that man. He was a sailor, with a spirit and an unusually violent temper. Everybody yielded to his imperious spirit, and he rode rough-shod over any that might be made to his wishes. He fell in love with Laura, and to marry her. At my and those of Scott he laughed scornfully, and warned both that he would permit neither of us to with his design. He was cunning enough to ingratiate himself with the parents of Laura by pretending to be religious, and ostensibly became more of a than the Trehernes themselves. Laura was carried away by the violence of his wooing; her parents were delighted with his pretended ; and against their support and Laura's timidity--I can call her yielding by no other name--Scott and myself could do nothing. Carew married her. I omitted to state that Carew was not rich. He was part owner in a ship called the Silver Arrow, which traded to the of Good Hope, and sometimes went as far as Zanzibar. When the marriage took place Carew was forced to take command of his ship for a voyage to the Cape. He wished Laura to go also, but this she refused to do, and by offering a dogged resistance to his violent temper she managed to get her own way for once. This I learnt from her afterwards. ! had she only been as determined over refusing marriage with Carew, all this sorrow might not have come upon us. But she was quite infatuated with the sailor, and while he was with her I believe she loved him after a fashion. Nevertheless, I do not think her passion either for Carew or for myself was very strong. Leaving then for his voyage, Carew established his wife in a cottage near my house, and went away almost immediately after the . Her parents had left Christchurch shortly before to take possession of some property in Antrim, Ireland, which had been left to them. Laura was quite alone, and found her state of grass-widowhood . She wished for , and encouraged myself and Dr. Scott to call upon her. As we were still in love with her, we accepted her invitation only too gladly, and for six months we ourselves to her amusement. Then came the news that the Silver Arrow had been on the coast of Guinea. The information was brought by the first mate, who had been p............