"And 'oo do ye suppose give me that theer letter, to bring to you,—the lady? Oh no! I'll tell you 'oo give it me,—it vas—shall ve say, Number Two, the Accessory afore the fact,—shall ve call 'im C.? Werry good! Now, 'ow did C. or Number Two, 'appen to give me that theer letter? I'll tell you. Ven Number Vun and Number Two, B. and C., vent down to Hawkhurst, I vent down to Hawkhurst. They put up at the 'Qveen's 'ead,' so I 'angs about the 'Qveen's 'ead,'—offers myself as groom—I'm 'andy vith an 'orse—got in the 'abit o' doing odd jobs for Number Vun and Number Two, and, last night, Number Two gives me that theer letter to deliver, and werry pertickler 'e vas as I should give it into your werry own daddle, 'e also gives me a guinea and tells as 'ow 'e don't vant me no more, and them's the circumstances, sir."
"But," said Barnabas in frowning perplexity, "I don't understand.
How did he get hold of the letter?"
"Lord, sir, 'ow do I know that? But get it 'e did—'e likewise broke the seal."
"But—why?"
"Vell now, first, it's a love-letter, ain't it?"
"Why—I—"
"Werry good! Now, sir, might that theer letter be making a app'intment—come?"
"Yes, an appointment for to-morrow evening."
"Ah! In a nice, qviet, lonely place—say a vood?"
"Yes, at a very lonely place called Oakshott's Barn."