“Montini.”
Peace shook his head.
“Never heard of such a person,” he ejaculated. “Don’t know any one of that name.”
“Ah, I was afraid it would be before your time,” observed Mr. Wrench.
“Therein consists our greatest difficulty—the lapse of time.”
“That’s a remarkably beautiful frame you are gilding—just my sort.”
“Not bad,” returned our hero, “but I have had a deal better under my hands; but I’m sorry I can’t help you to find the persons you are seeking. What town did they reside in?”
“Ah, several. I will read you over the names.”
Mr. Wrench drew out his pocket-book, and ran over the list of places which he had copied from the postmarks on the letters at Broxbridge Hall.
“You know,” he said, when he had finished the list, “I don’t want any information from you without paying handsomely for it. It is most imperative that I should find these people, if they be still alive.”