motives for thus abruptly and unseasonably deserting his service.

To the execution of this scheme pen and paper were necessary. The
business of writing was performed in the chamber on the third story. I
had been hitherto denied access to this room. In it was a show of papers
and books. Here it was that the task, for which I had been retained, was
to be performed; but I was to enter it and leave it only in company with
Welbeck. For what reasons, I asked, was this procedure to be adopted?

The influence of prohibitions and an appearance of disguise in awakening
curiosity is well known. My mind fastened upon the idea of this room
with an unusual degree of intenseness. I had seen it but for a moment.
Many of Welbeck's hours were spent in it. It was not to be inferred that
they were consumed in idleness: what then was the nature of his
employment over which a veil of such impenetrable secrecy was cast?

Will you wonder that the design of entering this recess was insensibly
formed? Possibly it was locked, but its accessibleness was likewise
possible. I meant not the commission of any crime. My principal purpose
was to procure the implements of writing, which were elsewhere not to be
found. I should neither unseal papers nor open drawers. I would merely
take a survey of the volumes and attend to the objects that
spontaneously presented themselves to my view. In this there surely was
nothing criminal or blameworthy. Meanwhile I was not unmindful of the
sudden disappearance of the candle. This incident filled my bosom with
the inquietudes of fear and the perturbations of wonder.

Once more I paused to catch any sound that might arise from without. All
was still. I seized the candle and prepared to mount the stairs. I had
not reached the first landing when I called to mind my midnight meeting