This happened on the Friday, and the trustees, without losing a moment, sent the officers of justice in pursuit of Mr.Fauntleroy.He was arrested, brought up before the magistrate, and remanded on the Saturday.

On the Monday I heard from my friends the particulars which I have just narrated.
But the events of that one morning were not destined to end even yet.

I had discovered the failure of the bank and the arrest of Mr.Fauntleroy.
I was next to be enlightened, in the strangest and the saddest manner, on the difficult question of his innocence or his guilt.
Before my friends had left my office--before I had exhausted the arguments which my gratitude rather than my reason suggested to me in favor of the unhappy prisoner--a note, marked immediate, was placed in my hands, which silenced me the instant I looked at it.

It was written from the prison by Mr.Fauntleroy, and it contained two lines only, entreating me to apply for the necessary order, and to go and see him immediately.
I shall not attempt to describe the flutter of expectation, the strange mixture of dread and hope that agitated me when I recognized his handwriting, and discovered what it was that he desired me to do.

I obtained the order and went to the prison.