On the afternoon of the fourth day Sir Patrick came in from a drive, and found a letter from Arnold waiting for him, which had been delivered by the second post.

Judged by externals only, it was a letter of an unusually perplexing—­possibly also of an unusually interesting—­kind.  Arnold was one of the last persons in the world whom any of his friends would have suspected of being a lengthy correspondent.  Here, nevertheless, was a letter from him, of three times the customary bulk and weight—­and, apparently, of more than common importance, in the matter of news, besides.  At the top the envelope was marked “Immediate..”  And at one side (also underlined) was the ominous word, “Private..”

“Nothing wrong, I hope?” thought Sir Patrick.

He opened the envelope.

Two inclosures fell out on the table.  He looked at them for a moment.  They were the two letters which he had forwarded to Baden.  The third letter remaining in his hand and occupying a double sheet, was from Arnold himself.  Sir Patrick read Arnold’s letter first.  It was dated “Baden,” and it began as follows: 

“My Dear Sir Patrick,—­Don’t be alarmed, if you can possibly help it.  I am in a terrible mess.”

Sir Patrick looked up for a moment from the letter.  Given a young man who dates from “Baden,” and declares himself to be in “a terrible mess,” as representing the circumstances of the case—­what is the interpretation to be placed on them?  Sir Patrick drew the inevitable conclusion.  Arnold had been gambling.

He shook his head, and went on with the letter.

“I must say, dreadful as it is, that I am not to blame—­nor she either, poor thing.”

Sir Patrick paused again.  “She?” Blanche had apparently been gambling too?  Nothing was wanting to complete the picture but an announcement in the next sentence, presenting the courier as carried away, in his turn, by the insatiate passion for play.  Sir Patrick resumed: 

“You can not, I am sure, expect me to have known the law.  And as for poor Miss Silvester—­”

“Miss Silvester?” What had Miss Silvester to do with it?  And what could be the meaning of the reference to “the law?”

Sir Patrick had re ad the letter, thus far, standing up.  A vague distrust stole over him at the appearance of Miss Silvester’s name in connection with the lines which had preceded it.  He felt nothing approaching to a clear prevision of what was to come.  Some indescribable influence was at work in him, which shook his nerves, and made him feel the infirmities of his age (as it seemed) on a sudden.  It went no further than that.  He was obliged to sit down:  he was obliged to wait a moment before he went on.

The letter proceeded, in these words: