With the growing idea that the whole thing was confounding to sober sense and reason, he read on-- "Can you postpone all your other engagements and come to Cornwall on receipt of this?
If you will telegraph the train you travel by I will have a conveyance to meet you at Penzance and bring you to Flint House.

This is a matter of importance." A postscript followed in the strangest contrast to the formal note--a postscript hasty and blotted, which had evidently been added in extreme agitation of mind-- "For God's sake lose no time.

Come at once." The tremulous urgent words stared out from the surface of the grey paper in all the piteous futility of an appeal made too late.

Glancing up, Mr.
Brimsdown's eye rested on the shelf where the deed box of Robert Turold reposed, and he mechanically reflected that it would be necessary to have the word "Deceased" added to the white-lettered inscription on the black surface.

Mr.Brimsdown sighed.