The hand-writing was black and heavy.

An expert at chirography would doubtless have distinguished in the lines traces of a violent temperament, of a character stern and unsocial.

Suddenly, a cry escaped me a cry that fortunately my housekeeper did not hear.
Why had I not noticed sooner the resemblance of the handwriting to that of the letter I had received from Morganton?
Moreover, a yet more significant coincidence, the initials with which my letter had been signed, did they not stand for the words "Master of the World ?" And whence came the second letter?
"On Board the 'Terror.'" Doubtless this name was that of the triple machine commanded by the mysterious captain.

The initials in my letter were his own signature; and it was he who had threatened me, if I dared to renew my attempt on the Great Eyrie.
I rose and took from my desk the letter of June thirteenth.

I compared it with the facsimile in the newspapers.