“I shall place them in my portman-tell,” said Gashwiler, suiting the word to the action, “for safe keeping.  I need not inform you, who are now, as it were, on the threshold of official life, that perfect and inviolable secrecy in all affairs of State”—­Mr. G. here motioned toward his portmanteau as if it contained a treaty at least—­“is most essential and necessary.”

Dobbs assented.  “Then my duties will keep me with you here?” he asked doubtfully.

“No, no,” said Gashwiler hastily; then, correcting himself, he added:  “that is—­for the present—­no!”

Poor Dobbs’s face fell.  The near fact was that he had lately had notice to quit his present lodgings in consequence of arrears in his rent, and he had a hopeful reliance that his confidential occupation would carry bread and lodging with it.  But he only asked if there were any new papers to make out.

“Ahem! not at present; the fact is I am obliged to give so much of my time to callers—­I have to-day been obliged to see half a dozen—­that I must lock myself up and say ‘Not at home’ for the rest of the day.”  Feeling that this was an intimation that the interview was over, the new private secretary, a little dashed as to his near hopes, but still sanguine of the future, humbly took his leave.

But here a certain Providence, perhaps mindful of poor Dobbs, threw into his simple hands—­to be used or not, if he were worthy or capable of using it—­a certain power and advantage.  He had descended the staircase, and was passing through the lower corridor, when he was made the unwilling witness of a remarkable assault.

It appeared that Mr. Wiles, who had quitted Gashwiler’s presence as Dobbs was announced, had other business in the hotel, and in pursuance of it had knocked at room No. 90.  In response to the gruff voice that bade him enter, Mr. Wiles opened the door, and espied the figure of a tall, muscular, fiery-bearded man extended on the bed, with the bedclothes carefully tucked under his chin, and his arms lying flat by his side.

Mr. Wiles beamed with his right cheek, and advanced to the bed as if to take the hand of the stranger, who, however, neither by word or sign responded to his salutation.

“Perhaps I’m intruding?” said Mr. Wiles blandly.

“Perhaps you are,” said Red Beard dryly.

Mr. Wiles forced a smile on his right cheek, which he turned to the smiter, but permitted the left to indulge in unlimited malevolence.  “I wanted merely to know if you have looked into that matter?” he said meekly.

“I’ve looked into it and round it and across it and over it and through it,” responded the man gravely, with his eyes fixed on Wiles.

“And you have perused all the papers?” continued Mr. Wiles.

“I’ve read every paper, every speech, every affidavit, every decision, every argument,” said the stranger as if repeating a formula.

Mr. Wiles attempted to conceal his embarrassment by an easy, right-handed smile, that went off sardonically on the left, and continued:  “Then I hope, my dear sir, that, having thoroughly mastered the case, you are inclined to be favorable to us?”