“Upon my honour, Japhet, you appear to be afraid of nothing.”

“I fear nothing, Tim, when I am following up the object of my wishes.  I will allow no obstacles to stand in my way, in my search after my father.”

“Really, you seem to be quite mad on that point, Japhet.”

“Perhaps I may be, Tim,” replied I, thoughtfully.  “At all events, let us go to bed now, and I will tell you to-morrow morning, all the events of this day.”

Mr Estcourt wrote his letter, which Tim very officiously offered to put into the post, instead of which we put it between the bars of the grate.

I must now pass over about three weeks, during which I became very intimate with the Major and Mr Harcourt, and was introduced by them to the clubs, and almost every person of fashion.  The idea of my wealth, and my very handsome person and figure, ensured me a warm reception, and I soon became one of the stars of the day.  During this time, I also gained the entire confidence of Mr Estcourt, who put letter after letter into the hands of Timothy, who of course put them into the usual place.  I pacified him as long as I could, by expressing my opinion, that his lordship was on a visit to some friends in the neighbourhood of his seat; but at last, he would remain in town no longer.  You may go now, thought I, I feel quite safe.

It was about five days after his departure, as I was sauntering, arm in arm with the Major, who generally dined with me about five days in the week, that I perceived the carriage of Lord Windermear, with his lordship in it.  He saw us, and pulling his check-string, alighted, and coming up to us, with the colour mounting to his forehead with emotion, returned the salute of the Major and me.

“Major,” said he, “you will excuse me, but I am anxious to have some conversation with Mr Newland; perhaps,” continued his lordship, addressing me, “you will do me the favour to take a seat in my carriage?”

Fully prepared, I lost none of my self-possession, but, thanking his lordship, I bowed to him, and stepped in.

His lordship followed, and, saying to the footman, “Home—­drive fast,” fell back in the carriage, and never uttered one word until we had arrived, and had entered the dining-parlour.  He then took a few steps up and down, before he said, “Mr Newland, or whatever your name may be, I perceive that you consider the possession of an important secret to be your safeguard.  To state my opinion of your conduct is needless; who you are, and what you are, I know not; but,” continued he, no longer controlling his anger; “you certainly can have no pretensions to the character of a gentleman.”

“Perhaps your lordship,” replied I, calmly, “will inform me upon what you may ground your inference.”

“Did you not, in the first place, open a letter addressed to another?”

“My lord, I opened a letter brought to me with the initials of my name, and at the time I opened it I fully believed that it was intended for me.”