Nothing occurred for about a fortnight after Caleb’s return to disquiet him, and he had begun to feel tolerably sure that his discovery of the notes would remain unsuspected, when, one afternoon, the sudden and impetuous entrance of Mr. Sowerby into his stall caused him to jump up from his seat with surprise and alarm.  The attorney’s face was deathly white, his eyes glared like a wild beast’s, and his whole appearance exhibited uncontrollable agitation.  “A word with you, Mr. Jennings,” he gasped—­“a word in private, and at once!” Caleb, in scarcely less consternation than his visitor, led the way into his inner room, and closed the door.

“Restore—­give back,” screamed the attorney, vainly struggling to dissemble the agitation which convulsed him—­“that—­that which you have purloined from the chest of drawers!”

The hot blood rushed to Caleb’s face and temples; the wild vehemence and suddenness of the demand confounded him; and certain previous dim suspicions that the law might not only pronounce what he had done illegal, but possibly felonious, returned upon him with terrible force, and he quite lost his presence of mind.

“I can’t—­I can’t,” he stammered.  “It’s gone—­given away”—­

“Gone!” shouted, or, more correctly, howled—­Sowerby, at the same time flying at Caleb’s throat as if he would throttle him.  “Gone—­given away!  You lie—­you want to drive a bargain with me—­dog!—­liar!—­rascal!—­thief!”

This was a species of attack which Jennings was at no loss how to meet.  He shook the attorney roughly off, and hurled him, in the midst of his vituperation, to the further end of the room.

They then stood glaring at each other in silence, till the attorney, mastering himself as well as he could, essayed another and more rational mode of attaining his purpose:—­

“Come, come, Jennings,” he said, “don’t be a fool.  Let us understand each other.  I have just discovered a paper, a memorandum of what you have found in the drawers, and to obtain which you bought them.  I don’t care for the money—­keep it; only give me the papers—­documents.”

“Papers—­documents!” ejaculated Caleb, in unfeigned surprise.

“Yes—­yes; of use to me only.  You, I remember, cannot read writing; but they are of great consequence to me—­to me only, I tell you.”

“You can’t mean Mrs. Warner’s letter?”

“No—­no; curse the letter!  You are playing with a tiger!  Keep the money, I tell you; but give up the papers—­documents—­or I’ll transport you!” shouted Sowerby with reviving fury.

Caleb, thoroughly bewildered, could only mechanically ejaculate that he had no papers or documents.