The idea
of his security became supremely dear to me, and I asked myself if
I were the same young man who had come down a few days before to
scatter him to the four winds. When I retraced my steps he had
gone into the house, and the woman--the second London post had come
in--had placed my letters and a newspaper on a bench. I sat down
there to the letters, which were a brief business, and then,
without heeding the address, took the paper from its envelope. It
was the journal of highest renown, The Empire of that morning. It
regularly came to Paraday, but I remembered that neither of us had
yet looked at the copy already delivered. This one had a great
mark on the "editorial" page, and, uncrumpling the wrapper, I saw
it to be directed to my host and stamped with the name of his
publishers. I instantly divined that The Empire had spoken of him,
and I've not forgotten the odd little shock of the circumstance.
It checked all eagerness and made me drop the paper a moment. As I
sat there conscious of a palpitation I think I had a vision of what
was to be. I had also a vision of the letter I would presently
address to Mr. Pinhorn, breaking, as it were, with Mr.
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