CHAPTER III. THE LETTER
It was with a countenance sadly dejected that Crispin returned to hischamber and sate himself wearily upon the bed. With elbows on his kneesand chin in his palms he stared straight before him, the usual steelybrightness of his grey eyes dulled by the despondency that sat upon hisface and drew deep furrows down his fine brow.
With a sigh he rose at last and idly fingered the papers he had takenfrom the pocket of Kenneth's coat. As he did so his glance was arrestedby the signature at the foot of one. "Gregory Ashburn" was the name heread.
Ashen grew his cheeks as his eyes fastened upon that name, whilst thehand, to which no peril ever brought a tremor, shook now like an aspen.Feverishly he spread the letter on his knee, and with a glance, fromdull that it had been, grown of a sudden fierce and cruel, he read thecontents.