envelope.

Silas tore it open, and found inside the words: "Twelve o'clock."

He was punctual to the hour; the trunk was carried before him by
several stout servants; and he was himself ushered into a room,
where a man sat warming himself before the fire with his back
towards the door. The sound of so many persons entering and
leaving, and the scraping of the trunk as it was deposited upon the
bare boards, were alike unable to attract the notice of the
occupant; and Silas stood waiting, in an agony of fear, until he
should deign to recognise his presence.

Perhaps five minutes had elapsed before the man turned leisurely
about, and disclosed the features of Prince Florizel of Bohemia.

"So, sir," he said, with great severity, "this is the manner in
which you abuse my politeness. You join yourselves to persons of
condition, I perceive, for no other purpose than to escape the
consequences of your crimes; and I can readily understand your
embarrassment when I addressed myself to you yesterday."

"Indeed," cried Silas, "I am innocent of everything except
misfortune."

And in a hurried voice, and with the greatest ingenuousness, he
recounted to the Prince the whole history of his calamity.

"I see I have been mistaken," said his Highness, when he had heard
him to an end. "You are no other than a victim, and since I am not