Just as they were making preparations to retire, a carriage drove to
the gate, and in the next minute a dashing young fellow came rushing
into the house, apparently in great anxiety. He was followed by a
well-dressed man, whose countenance and sharp features, full of
sternness, indicated much mechanical study. He hesitated as the
young man advanced, took Marston by the hand, nervously, led him
aside, whispered something in his ear. Taking a few steps towards a
window, the intruder, for such he seemed, stood almost motionless,
with his eyes firmly and watchfully fixed upon them, a paper in his
right hand. "It is too often, Lorenzo; these things may prove
fatal," said Marston, giving an inquiring glance at the man, still
standing at the window.

"I pledge you my honour, uncle, it shall be the last time," said the
young stranger. "Uncle, I have not forgotten your advice." Marston,
much excited, exhibited changes of countenance peculiar to a man
labouring under the effect of sudden disappointment. Apologising to
his guests, he dismissed them-with the exception of Maxwell-ordered
pen and ink, drew a chair to the table, and without asking the
stranger to be seated, signed his name to a paper. While this was
being done, the man who had waited in silence stepped to the door
and admitted two gentlemanly-looking men, who approached Marston and
authenticated the instrument. It was evident there was something of
deep importance associated with Marston's signature. No sooner had
his pen fulfilled the mission, than Lorenzo's face, which had just
before exhibited the most watchful anxiety, lighted up with joy, as
if it had dismantled its care for some new scene of worldly
prosperity.