earnestness that the "My dear girl," he

She spoke in solemn earnest, such man's light laugh seemed discordant. said, "I have no wish to tempt your feet from the paths of domestic virtue-no wish to harm you. I have finer fish to fry. But you may remember that when certain circumstances rendered it imperative-curse it! I can speak plainly to you-when I learnt that the warrant was out, when I knew that the game was up, I placed a little packet in your fond hands to keep until better times. Where is it ?" The woman flushed, and for a moment did not answer. Her prayer for mercy had been genuine; her wish to see him no more an honest utterance; but years ago she had given this man all a woman has to give-given it without consideration, without price. And now, so far as he was concerned, the only memory of the past which linked them together was but of a certain thing left in her charge.

He saw the flush, saw the hesitation, and, of course, attributed both to the wrong motive. His brow grew black. "By G-d!" he cried; "if it is not forthcoming-"

She burst into tears. "Wait," she said, quitting the room abruptly, and leaving her visitor in dire suspense. In a few minutes she returned and handed him a small sealed packet.

"There it is—just as you gave it to me that night," she said. 'Many a time when I've been hard pressed and did not know where to turn to for a shilling I tried to persuade myself that you meant me to use it in case of need. But I knew you too well, Maurice-I knew you too well!"

Hervey paid no heed to her last words, the scorn conveyed by which should have brought the blood to the cheek of any man of decent feelings. He tore the parcel open. It contained a gold watch and chain, two valuable diamond rings, and about a hundred and fifty sovereigns. He placed the watch in his fob, then tried to draw the rings on his fingers. Neither would pass over his enlarged knuckles, so with a curse he shovelled them along with the gold into his pocket. The woman watched him sadly.

"Thank you, my dear," he said airily. "I knew I could trust you. By the bye, perhaps you're hard up.

Have some- -I can get plenty more." gold to her.

He held out some

"Not a farthing. Your gold would burn me."

"Will you give me a kiss for the sake of old times? Fancy! it is more than four years since my lips have touched a woman's."

She made an emphatic gesture of dissent. "It would be well for some women," she said, "if your lips had never touched theirs."

He laughed an unpleasant laugh. "Well, good-bye then, if we are not to rake up old fires. Remember me to your respectable husband. Keep yourself unspotted from the world, and train up your children in the way they should go. Farewell."

66

He swung out of the house whistling a merry tune in vogue when his incarceration began. Now," he said, "that I have money enough to last a long time, I can make my own terms. Grim want won't push me into a corner. Now, you jade, I'll make you bend your proud knees!"

He grated his strong teeth and stamped his foot-the latter so violently and viciously that a timid old gentleman who was close by him started off at an accelerated pace in the direction of a distant policeman.

Hervey hung about London for a few days. He made considerable additions to his wardrobe, was an excellent customer of the hotel, he patronised several theatres, and generally enjoyed himself. He was not altogether idle, part of his time being taken up in making a series of inquiries which it took some trouble to get answered. At last he learned what he wanted to know. "So near!" he muttered. "I feared I should have to look out of England." Forthwith he paid his hotel bill, and carrying with him the respect of the proprietor, left the house. Evening found him in comfortable quarters in the smoky old city known as Blacktown.

CHAPTER XIX.

"IT HAS COME !"

AT Blacktown Maurice Hervey did not favour an hotel with his custom. Perhaps he mistrusted the capabilities possessed by the Blacktown hotels for furnishing him with luxuries such as, after so protracted and enforced an abstention, he felt to be rightly his due. Perhaps he sighed for the quietude and repose with which one usually associates a private house. After a short search he found a bedroom and a sitting-room, well furnished, and commanding extensive views. They were in one of a row of substantial houses which by some freak of fortune had fallen from the high estate of fashionable residences to the lower level of respectable lodging-houses. The landlady's quotation, which, after the manner of such quotations, had attached to it a string of extras like the tail to a kite, having been accepted, Mr. Hervey requested that some dinner might be prepared for him. This of course meant chops-an extemporised lodging-house dinner invariably means chops. Having particularly requested that his chops should be broiled, not fried, Mr. Hervey, whilst the cooking was going on, went out, found a wine merchant's, and ordered half a dozen of whisky to be at once sent in. The sight of the bottles, the number of which augured well for a long stay, gladdened the landlady's heart. By the aid of the whisky, a kettle of hot water, sugar, and cigars, the new lodger spent a comfortable, if not an intellectual or improving, evening.

In the morning he sallied forth. Like every visitor to the old city who has time to spare, he seemed bent upon

seeing the natural beauties of the suburbs of Blacktown. His landlady, who thought him a nice, pleasant, free-spoken gentleman, gave him an oral list of the stock sights in the vicinity; but as soon as he was out of doors Mr. Hervey inquired the way to Oakbury, and learnt that an easy walk of about two miles would take him to that highly-favoured spot. The weather, although fine, was cold, so he decided to walk to his destination. He soon left the rows of houses and shops behind him; struck along a broad white road which cut its way through a level green sward, and in about three-quarters of an hour found himself in front of the Red Lion Inn, Oakbury.

He entered the inn-men of his stamp when in the country make entering inns a point of honour. He called for hot brandy and water, and was supplied with a jorum. of that deep brown liquor, dear to rustic palates on account of its presumed strength. Hervey sipped it, lit a cigar, and entered into a cheerful conversation with the Red Lion and Lioness who were pursuing their calling in what, after the fashion of country inns, was a combination of bar and parlour. The Red Lion, an affable, condescending animal, and, like all noble animals, willing to relinquish toil for more congenial pursuits, seeing that his visitor was ready to talk, sat down in a round-backed chair near the fire, and left the Lioness to attend to the bottle and jug department, which, as the hour was just past noon, was in full swing of activity.

Hervey asked a variety of questions about the neighbourhood. He might really have been a gentleman of fortune anxious to buy a place and so properly particular as to what society might be round about. He obtained much valuable and interesting information about the "families of position," as they appeared to the eyes of the Red Lion. He learnt who lived in the big white house at the edge of the common, who in the house at the top of the hill, who in the house at the bottom. He was gradually leading up to the questions he wanted to ask, when the sound of carriage wheels was heard, and the Lion, after glancing over the wire window-blind, laid down his pipe and went

to the door. Hervey also glanced out of window, and saw two tall gentlemen who occupied the box-seats of a large waggonette. They were talking gravely and sadly to the Lion, who, whilst he listened with due respect, looked somewhat crestfallen and ill at ease.

"What's the matter now, Joe ?" asked the Lioness rather anxiously, as her spouse returned.

"Say the last cask o' beer ran out two days before its time, so couldn't have been full. They look after trifles, they do."

"Oh, nonsense!" said the Lioness, tossing her head. "Some one must have got at it. Their servants are no

better than others."

"Who are they?" asked Hervey.

"The Mr. Talberts of Hazlewood House," replied the landlady, with that smile on her face which seemed to come involuntarily on the faces of many people when they mentioned or heard the name of our gentle Horace and Herbert.

Hervey went hastily to the window and looked after the waggonette, which, however, was by now out of sight. "Rich men, I suppose ?" he said, reseating himself. "They're rich enough; but oh, that particular!" said the Lioness, with another toss of her head. The accusation of short measure rankled in her breast. "Close-fisted?" asked Hervey.

"Well, yes, they're close," said the Lion. they like to get a shilling's worth for a shilling."

"That is,

"We all like that. Let me have it now. Two brandies -one for you and one for me.'

The Lion laughed and filled the glasses.

Hervey

He laughed with

It was well our Hazlewood House

adroitly plied him with questions about the Talberts, and soon learnt almost as much as we know. the landlord at their amiable peculiarities. friends did not hear the Red Lion, or might have gone elsewhere for its beer. "They are funny gents," said the Lion. "You'd never believe; but a day or two ago I was walking along the road. It was drizzling with rain. The Mr. Talberts they passed me, driving. All of a sudden they pull up at the hedge