"Has the mail yet arrived?" he asked.

"Yes, sir; John has just come back from the village."

"Go at once and bring me the letters and papers, if there are any."

John bowed and withdrew.

Mr. Roscoe walked to the window, and looked thoughtfully out upon a
smooth, luxuriant lawn and an avenue of magnificent trees, through
which carriages were driven to what was popularly known as Castle
Roscoe. Everything, even to the luxuriously appointed room in which
he sat, indicated wealth and the ease which comes from affluence.

Mr. Roscoe looked around him with exultation.

"And all this may be mine," he said to himself, "if I am only bold.
What is it old Pindar says? 'Boldness is the beginning of victory.'
I have forgotten nearly all I learned in school, but I remember
that. There is some risk, perhaps, but not much, and I owe something
to my son---"

He was interrupted by the entrance of the servant with a small
leather bag, which was used to hold mail matter, going from or
coming to the house.

The servant unlocked the bag, and emptied the contents on the desk.
There were three or four papers and two letters. It was the last
which attracted Mr. Roscoe's attention.