"Thank you, sir," said Gillman, taking up the note and folding it away in a recess of his greasy pocket-book. "You have kept your word in this. I look to you to keep it in the other matter."

"What other matter ?"

"Regarding keeping it from our governor that I have been working for you in this matter. I would not have it known to Mr. D. for ten times ten pounds. It is not so much the "sack," which I should receive prompt; but it is the unforgiving nature of that man which I know, and the harm he would do me throughout the rest of my life."

"You need not fear. It suited our friend to employ you to make inquiries respecting a certain portion of my family history; it suited me to pay you to issue a second edition of your discoveries for my especial behoof. I am not likely to see much of Mr. D., as you call him, for some time to come, and I certainly should not think of saying anything which would render your position with him less confidential than it is. And now I don't think I need detain you any longer."

Business being thus pronounced to be at an end, Mr. Gillman thought himself at liberty to drink the ale, which he did at one long draught, and putting on a very shiny and napless hat, took his leave of his patron and departed.

66

'That was ten pounds well spent," said Philip Vane, as he started on his return to town in the hansom cab which had brought him down, and had been waiting for him some little distance up the road. "The information picked up by that fellow completely coincides with what flashed into my mind about Madge, directly her name was mentioned by the parson at Springside. Springside-how curiously that place has become associated with me! First, in connexion with that old Heriot, and now with Madge. Bah!" he continued, repressing a shudder, "I hate to think of that business. So long as the old man is alive, the merest allusion to him, to the place where he lives, or to the infernal company, sends a shiver through me. If Asprey had not given such an account of him, I would never-there, it's no use dwelling on that. It is easy enough now to understand how this parson had established such an influence over Madge as to induce her to confide that neat little episode in her life to him. It seems that he obtained for her the position by which she was enabled to make her living; so there is no wonder in her being grateful and confiding, and all

Any

that sort of thing. Now, my course is pretty plain before me. There are three persons possessed of information, by disclosing which they could, if they chose, prevent my marriage, or annul it after it had taken place, and get me two years' hard labour. One of these, and the most dangerous, is Delabole; but I have squared him, and closed his mouth by-doing what he wished. The other two are Madge and the parson. And of these, I look upon Madge as far the most important. When the parson confronted me the other day, he was evidently acting on Madge's behalf, not, I should say, under instructions from her, but in that sort of chivalrous spirit which influences such men. appeal I make must be made to Madge direct, and must not come through him. He would not hear of any compromise, and it would be impossible for him in his position not to take notice of a direct infraction of the law. He is but a poor creature mentally, if one may judge from the manner in which he was hoodwinked by my sudden penitence on the only occasion of our meeting. When I go to Springside to-morrow, my first inquiry must be for him. I must ask him where Madge is to be found, leading him to think that I am thoroughly sorry for having been a naughty boy, and wish to come back to her and to live happy ever after. When I find out where Madge is, and get her by herself out of Mr. Drage's range, there will not, I think, be much difficulty in dealing with her. Whatever affection she may have had for me-and there is no doubt she was deuced fond of me at one time-must have passed away, so that will be no obstacle to her going abroad. She was always ambitious, and if I agree to give her a handsome allowance, or the money downthat's a better plan-and she hears that she can live in luxury and comfort, on condition that she does not allow herself to be betrayed in making any more confidences such as she made to her clerical friend, and keeps herself thoroughly to herself, think there is very little doubt that she will agree. At all events, as Mrs. Bendixen is within a very few days to become Mrs. Philip Vane, it is quite time some steps were taken in regard to the lady who now holds that title."

The autumnal sun, without much warmth in it to be sure, but doing its best to make things look bright and cheerful, was shining over Springside in the early afternoon of the next day, and tempting the strongest

of the invalids, who had made it their head-quarters for the winter, into the streets. There was a little more excitement than usual in Springside, for it was "mail morning," and nearly all the inhabitants of the Indian colony there located had received letters, the generally interesting news of which they were anxious to discuss with their common friends. On such occasions the club was certain to be filled, and it was incumbent on every Springside settler to take down his budget of gossip and contribute it to the general stock.

Captain Cleethorpe, in whom long years of home residence had not in the least cooled his love for the East and his interest in Indian affairs, had long taken the lead in the discussions which cropped up on such occasions. But when Sir Geoffry Heriot joined the colony, the captain, with a good grace, yielded to his senior officer the position which the latter's age, experience, and clear-headed common sense enabled him to hold against all comers. Indeed, after a very short time, the old general's impetuosity of manner, and sharp caustic style of conversation, grew to be so much relished, that the chance of his attendance at the club was held up as an attraction, and many an invalid, whom nothing else would ever have induced to venture out, wrapped himself in wondrous mufflers, and braved the night air, on the chance of hearing "old Heriot tackle a griff."

The news that the old general was seriously ill had spread a gloom over this day's meeting, and even those who had been most opposed to him in argument on social and political questions joined in lamenting his absence and its cause, acknowledging, as they did, that, though censorious and irritating, he was always a perfectly honourable and gentlemanly opponent. True it was that the arrival of Captain Cleethorpe, who had come straight from Wheatcroft, with the news that there was a decided improvement in Sir Geoffry's condition that day, had a cheering influence on the assemblage. But the old man's absence was most noticeable; a dozen occasions arose on which, as it was felt by most present, he would have dashed in with some trenchant remarks, which would have had the effect of changing the whole line of the argument. On Captain Cleethorpe, especially, this feeling fell with fullest force; he owned to himself that he was dull and dispirited, and impressed with a consciousness of an impending something which he could not explain. He was glad

that he had brought the mare into town. Instead of going straight home to the Bungalow, he would take a stiffish ride round the country in the hope of thus driving away this attack of low spirits.

So the captain, admirably got up after his neat, trim, soldierly fashion, and looking infinitely better and sounder than many a youngster of half his age, went riding through the streets, jauntily returning the salutations which showered upon him from right and left. He had passed the boundary of the town, and was crossing the road near a little sub-station of the railway, within some three miles of the principal terminus, when a man, suddenly emerging from the narrow lane leading to the station, caused the mare to swerve, and her owner to be grateful for the possession of an excellent cavalry seat. It did not take the captain an instant to recover himself, and as he patted the mare's neck and soothed her, he looked round for the cause of the commotion.

This was a tall, bright-looking young man, well set up, and of springy, active step, who advanced towards the horseman, and was raising his hat, apparently about to apologise for the disturbance which he had involuntarily created. As soon, however, as he approached near enough to discern the features of the gentleman whom he was about to address, he hesitated, stopped, and then, without saying a word, pulled his hat over his eyes and strode rapidly away.

The captain gazed after him in extreme wonderment, not unmixed with disgust. He was very punctilious in his notions of breeding and behaviour, and though there had been no necessity for an apology, yet for the young man to come forward merely to scowl and disappear, was a breach of manners of which Captain Cleethorpe did not at all approve.

"The man must be mad," Cleethorpe muttered to himself, looking after the rapidly retreating figure, or what on earth can have induced him to rush away like that, as soon as he recognised me? For he did recognise me, I am sure of that, and that was the cause of his trouble. Couldn't be one of my quarter-sessions friends? That young fellow was too well-looking, too frank and bright for a jail-bird. Too

stay-where have I seen that face before? somewhere, I'll be sworn. That expression of pain and trouble which flitted across it for an instant seemed quite familiar to me. Now let me think this out quietly."

And the captain turned round easily in his saddle, and checking the mare to a walk, fell into a train of reflection which lasted some little time. At last he seemed to find the sought for clue, he raised his head, brought his whip-hand down upon his thigh with a smack that startled the mare into a canter, and never drew rein until he overtook a lady walking along the road, who, turning quickly round as Captain Cleethorpe pulled up beside her, proved to be Mrs. Pickering.

"The very person of all others I most wished to see,' "said the captain, raising his hat. "Will you permit me, my dear Mrs. Pickering, to walk beside you for a short distance, for I have something of real importance to talk to you about."

As he spoke he jumped nimbly from the saddle, and hanging the bridle over his arm, commenced walking by her side.

"Your manner is somewhat alarming, Captain Cleethorpe," said Madge, with a sad smile. "I trust you have no further bad news to tell me of. Sir Geoffry's illness is about as much as we can bear just now." "No, I won't say bad news, but something odd and strange has happened which you ought to hear of. You recollect your asking me some time ago whether our old friend Sir Geoffry had any family?"

"Yes! yes!"

quiring somewhat later on the same afternoon at the rectory gate. "I'm not sure, sir, but I think he's gone up to Wheatcroft."

Wheatcroft, eh ?" said the stranger. "Sir Geoffry Heriot's place, isn't it ?"

"Yes, if you please, sir," said the little maid, half awed, half fascinated by the great black beard and brilliant teeth on which she was gazing. "Sir Geoffry's much better to-day, sir, and I heard Mr. Drage say he should go up and have a chat with him."

"Thank you; good day," said the stranger, turning away. "Much better is he? That's not good hearing. However, I suppose Asprey could not be wrong in his diagnosis, and this sudden improvement in the old gentleman is but one of those flashes which so frequently precede total extinction. What a confounded nuisance that this parson should be away from home just when I wanted him. I must see him, for I must learn from him where to find Madge. He is probably the only person who could give me that information, and even if she were still in this place, which I very much doubt, it would not do for me to be poking about and asking questions which might elicit unpleasant inquiries. The old gentleman would not be up to much conversation, and I should think that he and Drage must have had it all out by this time. I'll walk up towards Wheatcroft and meet the parson on his way back."

So Mr. Philip Vane, for it was he, strode leisurely away. The rectory was situate in the outskirts of the town, and on that autumnal evening there were few chance passers-by. Yet Mr. Philip Vane thought it advisable to diverge from the high road, and climbing a gate to proceed along a narrow-beaten track on the other side of the edge, keeping at the same time a sharp

"My dear Mrs. Pickering, I would do anything in the world to serve you or Sir Geoffry, only I should like to know

"Don't wait an instant now, you shall know all some other time."

And the captain raised his hat in adieu, jumped on to the mare, and cantered off.

"No, sir, Mr. Drage has not returned," said the neat little maid to a stranger, in

He

to meet. He was annoyed when he found himself getting close to Wheatcroft, without having seen any sign of Mr. Drage. The train by which he was to return to London would start in an hour, and unless he made good use of his time now, his expedition would have been in vain. thought he would go up to the house, where Mr. Drage had probably been detained. There was no chance of his seeing Sir Geoffry, who would doubtless be confined to his room, nor was it probable that any of the servants, even if they saw him, would recognise him in the dusk.

He leaped a light fence, which separated

Shaking himself free, Vane darted towards the window, but recoiled in horror as he saw his wife standing in the open air, and looking on with terror-stricken eyes.

In an instant he found himself in the full blaze of a moderator-lamp standing on a table in the window. In an instant he heard a thin, querulous voice call out:

"Hallo, you sir! Come here!"

Philip Vane looked up and saw Sir Geoffry Heriot sitting in an easy-chair by the French window, one-half of which was open. The old man's face was very pale, but his eyes were blazing, and his outstretched hand trembled visibly.

"Hallo, you sir! Come here," he repeated.

"What's the matter, Sir Geoffry ?" said Vane, stepping into the room. "You must have forgotten whom you are addressing, by your tone."

"Not at all, I know who you are, and I am glad you have come, for you have saved me the trouble of sending for you."

Sending for me? Did you want me, Sir Geoffry ?"

Not I, sir, but the police, whom I was about to instruct to arrest you."

"The police! You're an old man, Sir Geoffry, and an invalid, but if you recover you shall answer for this insult."

"Not I, sir; no code will compel me to go out with a swindler and a forger! Here is Irving's letter, here-no, you shall not escape if I can only reach the bell."

Weak and shattered as he was, the old man staggered from his seat and threw himself upon Vane, who had turned to the open window. The remains of those nerves of steel, which had gained him so much renown in the old days, and enabled him to undergo so many hardsdips, had not entirely deserted Sir Geoffry, for his grasp was riveted on his antagonist, and Vane found it impossible to shake it off. Twice Vane struck the upturned face with his clenched fist, until it was streaming with blood; but the old man still held on. At length Vane, freeing one hand, seized Sir Geoffry's loose neckcloth and twisted it round and round. At the first motion of his wrist the old man's strength suddenly

His hesitation, however, was but for an instant, and he rushed straight at the window, pushing Madge aside and flinging her to the ground with stunning force, and tore across the lawn to the point at which he had entered the plantation. So far no one had followed him. While crossing the lawn he had seen the dim outline of a figure making its way up the carriage sweep; but it had taken no notice of him, and probably, indeed, not seen him. So far, then, he was safe.

The man whom Philip Vane had noticed in the carriage sweep strode steadily on until he reached the plateau on which the house stood, when he paused and looked round. The flood of light from the open window attracted his attention, and he crept towards it. Suddenly he came upon the prostrate figure of a woman, and looking beyond saw a sight calculated to frighten a stouter heart than his. Springing into the room, he gently raised Sir Geoffry's body in his arms, and was about to attempt to lay it on the couch, when the door behind him was thrown open. He heard the shouting of men and the screaming of women, felt himself suddenly pinioned, and a strong rough hand at his neck. The lamp had been overturned in the hubbub, but some of the servants had candles with them, and one of the men called for a light to look at the ruffian. But after he had raised the candle up to his captive's face, he let it drop to the ground, as he cried in heart-piercing tones:

"Ah, wirra, wirra, Masther George!"

JUST PUBLISHED, THE

EXTRA DOUBLE NUMBER FOR CHRISTMAS, 1871,

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VOL. VII.

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