CHAPTER XIV.

NEWS FROM GRABMAN.

That day, opening thus auspiciously to Beck, was memorable also to other
and more prominent persons in this history.

Early in the forenoon a parcel was brought to Madame Dalibard which
contained Ardworth's already famous book, a goodly assortment of extracts
from the newspapers thereon, and the following letter from the young
author:--

You will see, by the accompanying packet, that your counsels have had
weight with me. I have turned aside in my slow, legitimate career. I
have, as you desired, made "men talk of me." What solid benefit I may
reap from this I know not. I shall not openly avow the book. Such
notoriety cannot help meat the Bar. But liberavi animam meam,--excuse my
pedantry,--I have let my soul free for a moment; I am now catching it
back to put bit and saddle on again. I will not tell you how you have
disturbed me, how you have stung me into this premature rush amidst the
crowd, how, after robbing me of name and father, you have driven me to
this experiment with my own mind, to see if I was deceived when I groaned
to myself, "The Public shall give you a name, and Fame shall be your
mother." I am satisfied with the experiment. I know better now what is
in me, and I have regained my peace of mind. If in the success of this
hasty work there be that which will gratify the interest you so kindly
take in me, deem that success your own; I owe it to you,--to your
revelations, to your admonitions. I wait patiently your own time for
further disclosures; till then, the wheel must work on, and the grist be