CHAPTER XII.
A few days after this, Mrs.Holmes sent me under cover a telegram which she had received from her son.

It was dispatched from Aberdeen and ran: "Perfectly well.

Don't worry about me.Love.

Randall." And that was all I heard of him for some considerable time.

What he was doing in Aberdeen, a city remote from his sphere of intellectual, political, and social activities, Heaven and himself alone knew.