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Mr. Lorry had just finished his dinner, and was sitting before a

cheery little log or two of fire--perhaps looking into their

blaze for the picture of that younger elderly gentleman from

Tellson's, who had looked into the red coals at the Royal George

at Dover, now a good many years ago. He turned his head as they

entered, and showed the surprise with which he saw a stranger.

"Miss Pross's brother, sir," said Sydney. "Mr. Barsad."

"Barsad?" repeated the old gentleman, "Barsad? I have an

association with the name--and with the face."

"I told you you had a remarkable face, Mr. Barsad," observed

Carton, coolly. "Pray sit down."

As he took a chair himself, he supplied the link that Mr. Lorry

wanted, by saying to him with a frown, "Witness at that trial."

Mr. Lorry immediately remembered, and regarded his new visitor

with an undisguised look of abhorrence.