all locked, and believed to contain papers and articles of value.

Agnes was anxious to return to London, and quitted Trentford that morning without any additional circumstances having transpired which tended to throw a light upon this mysterious affair. While changing horses at the solitary inn of a small town, about fifty miles from Trentford, a person came up to the carriage, and taking off his hat, civilly inquired whether he was not speaking to Miss Morton, and informed her that his name was Allen. The information was needless, as she knew him by sight: His object in addressing her appeared to be no other than to make inquiries after Mr. Morton, who, he said, he was sorry to hear had been very unwell. Agnes assured him that the report he had received must have been exaggerated; and, after another observation or two, he again bowed and walked away.

This was the only face she knew that met her

eye in her way to London; and, without any incident of the slightest moment, she again returned to the humble and melancholy dwelling of her parents.

CHAPTER XII.

Flat burglary as ever was committed.
Much ado about Nothing.

On the following day, at an early hour, Sackville presented himself to the Mortons. To Agnes he was full of condolence and regret upon the fruitlessness of her journey, and the arrival of his own letter too late to be of use. Agnes, in return, had much to say to him, and among other things, related all that had passed at Trentford.

Sackville heard her tale, at first, merely as an amusing incident, and seemed prepared to treat it lightly; but, as she proceeded, his attention became more deeply fixed. He looked grave,

and, at length, changed colour, and ended with declaring that he entertained little doubt of his having been robbed. He even begged her to recapitulate all the circumstances, and in the presence of her father committed the whole to paper. His manner showed that the facts she mentioned appeared to him of the most serious import; and such was his eagerness to satisfy his doubts that he set out immediately from London, and arrived at Trentford that night.

It was very late when he reached it, but before he slept he commenced his examination. He began with his own sitting-room, out of which the person was supposed to have escaped. All that had been locked remained so still, and therefore the theft, if such there were, must have been committed by means of false keys. He knew that there was much to lose, and his hand trembled with anxiety as he turned the first lock. His anxious eye soon fell upon some money, which he remembered to have left in the drawer which he first opened: he counted it, and it was

still the same: he then looked for other valuables, and he found them all untouched. He directed his attention in turn to every object that could be supposed to excite the cupidity of a robber, but all remained where he had left them; and, after a long and anxious search, he closed his eyes that night, without having been able to discover that he had suffered the slightest loss.

He arose next morning, well pleased with the result of his investigation, and only vexed at having been rendered uneasy, and led to undertake a journey by an idle tale, perhaps the fabrication of a feverish fancy, and which had been proved to end in nothing. He was, however, struck by the singular retribution which caused him to receive at the hands of Agnes the punishment of an anxious and unnecessary journey, in return for that to which he had exposed her. After all, was it a hoax? Was it done for the sake of tormenting him, or of getting him out