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Chapter 1

           Butnooneexceptthedonseveraddressedhimbyhispropername,whichwasJohnCarrington—hewassimply‘Boffles,’andBofflesheremainedevennowforallthosewhohadbeenhisintimates.Irefoldedandputbyhisletterandthedraftforthefiftypounds,andwithapassingvaguewonderastowhatmannerofmanthe‘philanthropist’mightbewhohadmoremoneythanheknewwhattodowith,Iturnedtotheconsiderationofmyothertwocorrespondents,relievedtofeelthatnow,whateverhappened,IcouldsettleuparrearswithmylandladythenextdayasIhadpromised.MoreoverIcouldordersomesupper,andhaveafirelittocheermychillyroom.Beforeattendingtothesecreaturecomfortshowever,Iopenedthelongblueenvelopethatlookedsolikeathreatoflegalproceedings,andunfoldingthepaperwithin,staredatitamazedly.Whatwasitallabout?Thewrittencharactersdancedbeforemyeyes—puzzledandbewildered,Ifoundmyselfreadingthethingoverandoveragainwithoutanyclearcomprehensionofit.Presentlyaglimmerofmeaningflasheduponme,startlingmysenseslikeanelectricshock,...no—no——impossible!Fortunenevercouldbesomadasthis!—neversowildlycapriciousandgrotesqueofhumour!Itwassomesenselesshoaxthatwasbeingpractiseduponme,...andyet,...ifitwereajoke,itwasaveryelaborateandremarkableone!Weightedwiththemajestyofthelawtoo!..

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