Seeing that he was determined to stick to his terms, I departed.

I telegraphed to Sheldon for instructions as to whether I was to give Goodge the money he asked, and then went back to my inn, where I devoted myself for the next ten minutes to the study of a railway time-table, with a view to finding the best route to Spotswold.
After a close perusal of bewildering strings of proper names and dazzling columns of figures, I found a place called Black Harbour, "for Wisborough, Spotswold, and Chilton." A train left Ullerton for Black Harbour at six o'clock in the afternoon, and was due at the latter place at 8.40.
This gave me an interval of some hours, in which I could do nothing, unless I received a telegram from Sheldon.

The chance of a reply from him kept me a prisoner in the coffee-room of the Swan Inn, where I read almost every line in the local and London newspapers pending the arrival of the despatch, which came at last.
"Tell Goodge he shall have the sum asked, and get the letters at once.
Money by to-night's post." This was Sheldon's message; sharp and short, and within the eighteen penny limit.

Acting upon this telegram, I returned to the abode of Mr.
Goodge, told him his terms were to be complied with, showed him the telegram, at his request, and asked for the letters.
I ought to have known my reverend friend better than to imagine he would part with those ancient documents except for money upon the counter.
He smiled a smile which might have illuminated the visage of Machiavelli.
"The letters have kept a long time, young man," he said, after having studied the telegram as closely as if it had been written in Punic; "and lo you, they are in nowise the worse for keeping: so they will keep yet longer.

'If thou be wise, then shalt be wise for thyself.' You can come for the letters tomorrow, and bring the money with you.