It was empty; but on a shelf lay a large envelope, addressed to Hungerford and myself.
I tore it open.

There was a small packet, which I knew contained the portrait he had worn on his bosom, addressed to Mrs.Falchion; and the other was a single sheet directed to me, fully written upon, and marked in the corner: "To be made public." So, he had disappeared from the play?
He had made his exit?
He had satisfied the code at last?
Before opening the letter addressed to me, I looked round.

His clothes were folded upon one of the berths; but the garments of masquerade were not in the cabin.

Had he then gone out of the world in the garb of a mummer?
Not altogether, for the false beard he had worn the night before lay beside the clothes.

But this terrible earnestness of his would look strange in last night's disguise.
I opened the packet addressed to Hungerford and myself, and saw that it contained a full and detailed account of his last meeting with his wife.