"'Why, my dear uncle, I was surprised at your late letter, and came personally to ascertain what you meant.'
"'Mean! and do you pretend, sir, to be ignorant of my meaning?'
"'Indeed, uncle, I am.'
"'Uncle—don't uncle me, sir—I am no uncle of yours.'
"I now thought his insanity undoubted.
"'Be composed, my dear sir,' I rejoined; 'do you not know Edward Vavasour, your attached nephew?'
"He rose—his eyes had a peculiar expression—one I had never witnessed before: naturally of a dark-grey, they seemed to take the hue of a fiery red, and they glared fearfully.
"'The house of Vavasour is doomed—its last hour has come;' and, saying these words he drew from his pocket-book a letter, which he threw towards me. I seized it; and judge of my horror when I perceived this paper."
Lord Mortlake then took from his escritoire the following letter:—
"Sir Thomas,—You have had your triumph—my triumph comes now. The despised Mortlake rejoices in the extinction of the proud Vavasour. Know, haughty man, Edward is not the son of your brother!"