I found it had been broken open, and inside it were a lot of letters--old letters in envelopes; nothing else.

The addresses on the envelopes were all the same--to a gentleman living at Hampstead.
I thought the best I could do was to go and inquire for this address; and I found it, and rang the door-bell.

When I told the servant what I wanted--it was a large house--she asked me to come in, and after I had waited a little she took me into a library, where a gentleman was sitting.

I had to answer a good many questions, and the man talked rather gruffly to me.

When he had made a note of my name and where I lived, he said that I should hear from him, and so I went away.