The carriage stopped at a door in a narrow lane in an obscure suburb.
Yet, dark as all the houses around were, lights were seen in the upper
windows of Cesarini's residence, passing to and fro; and scarce had the
servant's loud knock echoed through the dim thoroughfare, ere the door
was opened. Danvers descended, and entered the passage--"Oh, sir, I am
so glad you are come!" said an old woman, pale and trembling; "he do
take on so!"

"There is no mistake," asked Danvers, halting; "an Italian gentleman
named Cesarini lodges here?"

"Yes, sir, poor cretur--I sent for you to come to him--for says I to my
boy, says I--"

"Whom do you take me for?"

"Why, la, sir, you be's the doctor, ben't you?"

Danvers made no reply; he had a mean opinion of the courage of one who
could act dishonourably; he thought there was some design to cheat his
friend out of his revenge; accordingly he ascended the stairs, motioning
the woman to precede him.

He came back to the door of the carriage in a few minutes. "Let us go
home, Maltravers," said he, "this man is not in a state to meet you."

"Ha!" cried Maltravers, frowning darkly, and all his long-smothered
indignation rushing like fire through every vein of his body; "would he
shrink from the atonement?" He pushed Danvers impatiently aside, leapt