"So I do," stammered Carl. "I believe that my father would much rather
believe that his son is dead than to know that he is a criminal. There
has never been a stain on my father or mother's name until--until I
brought this one upon it and the holy office he occupies. Then, they have
lived through the anguish of believing me to be dead, and it is terrible
to think of bringing into their declining years a deeper sorrow. Ah,
believe me, Doctor, it is not my happiness I desire, but to save them
from deeper pain. If I am acting wrongly, I pray God, whom I now ask for
pardon, may direct me aright."

"I greatly fear," replied the doctor, "that you are only willing to be
directed in your own way. But I must leave you. The boat passes
Centerville in an hour. I will take the money and send it by express on
tomorrow's steamer."

As has been told, the money was duly received by the cashier of the Bank
of England.

As Mr. Bone opened the package, he discovered that the notes had been
first wrapped in a sheet of substantial letter paper, and sealed at both
ends. As he was about to drop this wrapper into the waste basket his eye
caught sight of a water mark; the letters were "C.A. Marmion, N.Y.,
U.S.A." Thinking that this might prove important, he preserved it for
future reference. He laid it upon his desk and a few days later he wrote
and mailed the following letter:

"London, May 25, 18--.

"MR. C.A. MARMION, New York, U.S.A: