“It has now been ascertained for a certainty that the beneficiary mentioned in the accompanying will is no longer living.  I have, therefore, a clear title to the estate, as it would revert to me at his death.  The document itself is worthless, except as a possible means of silencing that scoundrel, Hobson, should he attempt to reveal anything of the past, as he has threatened to do, and for this purpose I shall retain it in my possession until such time as I make final adjustment of my affairs. 
                                             “Hugh Mainwaring.”

“Ah,” said Harold Mainwaring, thoughtfully, as he suddenly recalled the morning when he had discovered Merrick and his assistant dragging the lake at Fair Oaks, “I think I understand how this paper came into Merrick’s possession.  It was evidently kept in the same receptacle which held the will, but in my haste and excitement at the discovery of the will I must have overlooked it.  The box in which these papers were kept afterwards fell into Merrick’s hands, and he must have found this.”

“That solves one riddle, here is the other,” and Miss Carleton handed her lover a small note, covered with a fine, delicate chirography whose perfectly formed characters revealed a mind accustomed to the study of minute details and appreciative of their significance.  He opened it and read the following: 

“My dear miss Carleton: 

“Pardon the liberty I take, but, thinking the enclosed bit of paper might be of some possible assistance to one in whose success I believe you are deeply interested, I send it herewith, as, for obvious reasons, I deem this circuitous method of transmission better than one more direct.

“As when taking leave of you on board the ‘Campania,’ so now, permit
me to assure you that if I can ever serve you as a friend, you have
but to command me. 
                               “Most sincerely yours,
                                               “C.  D. Merrick.”

A smile of amusement lighted Harold Mainwaring’s face as, glancing up from the note, his eyes met those of Miss Carleton’s with their expression of perplexed inquiry.

“This is easily explained,” he said; “do you remember the tall, slender man whom we observed on board the ‘Campania’ as being rather unsocial and taciturn?”

“Yes, I remember he rather annoyed me, for I fancied he concentrated considerably more thought and attention upon us than the circumstances called for.”

“Which shows you were more observing than I. Such a thought never entered my mind till I had been about ten days in London, when it occurred to me that, considering the size of the town and the fact that he and I were strangers, we met with astonishing frequency.  I have since learned that he was a detective sent over to London on an important case, and being an intimate friend of Merrick’s, the latter, who, I am informed, was shadowing me pretty closely at the time, requested him to follow my movements and report to him, which he evidently did, as I have since heard that Merrick had expressed to one or two that he was not at all surprised by the developments which followed my return to this country.  Consequently, it is not to be wondered at if he has an inkling that you may be somewhat interested in this case.”