The thin paper shook in Mr. Sabin's fingers. There was no signature,
but he fancied that the handwriting was not wholly unfamiliar to him.
He looked slowly up towards the cabman.

"I am much obliged to you," he said. "This is of interest to me."

He stretched out his hand to the little wad of notes which Duson had
left upon the table, but the cabdriver backed away.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said. "You've given me plenty. The letter's
of no value to me. I came very near tearing it up, but for the
peculiar colour pencil it's written with. Kinder took my fancy,
sir."

"The letter is of value," Mr. Sabin said. "It tells me much more
than I hoped to discover. It is our good fortune."

The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed. Mr. Sabin
touched the bell.

"Duson, what time is it?"

"Nearly midnight, sir!"

"I will go to bed!"

"Very good, sir!"

"Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson. I need rest. See that I am not