Nothing could have been quieter than the marriage at Rathclare. There was no display of any kind, no wedding-breakfast, no rejoicings. The men employed by Mr. O'Donnell had proposed subscribing and giving the bride a present, until they were told that anything of the kind would be inopportune. The presents which private friends sent were, out of respect to the few people who called, set forth in the dining-room. But, upon the whole, neither before nor after the marriage, was there anything connected with it which could give the people of Rathclare the least pretence for uncharitableness. The bride and bridegroom drove away from the house early in the afternoon, with the intention of spending a short time on the Continent, and then returning to Rathclare. When they had gone, not more than half-a-dozen guests remained at O'Donnell's. Among these was Lavirotte, who had promised to stay with the old folk that night. There was a very quiet dinner, and before one o'clock the old man and Lavirotte found themselves alone in the dining-room. "I have been waiting for this opportunity, sir," said the Frenchman, "when we should be quiet and alone, with no chance of interruption, in order that I might speak to you about the matter which is nearest my heart." The old man looked at Lavirotte gratefully, and said: "You are alluding to the property you spoke to me of?" "Yes," said Lavirotte. "I am still in no position to talk freely of the matter; but this much I can tell you, that since I saw you last I have made it my business to ascertain as closely as possible our chances of success." "And they are?" said O'Donnell, leaning forward and looking at his guest eagerly. "Excellent, most excellent. Nothing could be better. Ever since I left Glengowra I have devoted all my time to their furtherance, and I have come to the conclusion that, although I cannot now say with certainty the exact amount, no more than a few months need pass before you shall be in command of any sum of money you may require." "Thank God!" cried the old man, throwing himself back in his chair, clasping his hands, and looking upwards. "You do not know what a blessed relief your words are to me; for no longer ago than this morning I had news from Dublin to the effect that there is to be another and an immediate call, and that this will be at least double the former one." "How soon is this likely to come upon you? How soon shall you want the money for this call?" "Within a few weeks. What distresses me most of all is other news which accompanies what I have already told you, to the effect that although the first demand had been very freely met, the general impression, the conviction, was that the second demand would be met by very few indeed in full, and that all of those who met it in part, and many of those who met it in full, would be absolutely ruined." "I do not exactly know the full meaning of what you tell me," said Lavirotte. "Will you explain?" "Nothing is simpler. Let us say a man held one one-hundred pound share. When the bank stopped, having lost all its capital and a vast quantity of the money lent to it and deposited in it, this man's hundred pounds was then not only gone, but the rest of his fortune also (the bank being unlimited) if the whole of his fortune was necessary to pay the last penny to the lenders and depositors." "That's very hard," said Lavirotte. "Very hard--cruel. Now, the first call, let us say of fifty pounds, means that the man who held the one-hundred pound share is called upon to pay fifty pounds towards indemnifying the depositors and lenders." "So that if the man pays the fifty he loses a hundred and fifty?" "Exactly. Now, if the second call is double the first, he will, when he has paid that----" "He will have lost two hundred and fifty pounds on his original hundred pound speculation." "Quite so. You see that. Let us say nine out of ten can pay the fifty pounds, but not more than six out of ten can pay the hundred. Now, my correspondent in Dublin gives me to understand that nothing like six out of ten will be able to meet the second call, and that, in fact, the solvent shareholders after the second call will be only rich men; so that there will be no need for proceeding further gradually, and, in all likelihood, the third call will be for a very large sum indeed per share, two hundred and fifty, five hundred, or a thousand pounds perhaps." "Mr. O'Donnell, you will not consider me impertinent if I ask you, in strict confidence, whether you think you will be able to pay this second call?" "Yes, I think I shall be able to pay the second call, but as far as I can see it will drain me to the utmost. My credit is now, of course, gone, and I am obliged to pay cash, so that after paying the hundred pound call I shall have barely sufficient capital to keep the business going. The business consists, of course, of the good-will, the plant, the stock, and the debts. All this put together would not go nearly meeting a third call of any such magnitude as I have spoken of." "And the result of that would be to you?" "That I should be a bankrupt and a pauper." "Well," said Lavirotte, going over and taking the old man by the hand, "meet the second at all hazards." He drew himself up then to his full height, raised his right hand to heaven, saying: "And I swear to you, Mr. O'Donnell, that I will answer for the third." The merchant rose from his chair and took his hand. "There is no use in attempting to thank a man for a service such as you promise. I will not try to say anything; I could not if I would." "Be seated, sir, I beg you, be seated. Think no more of the matter. Rely on me. Leave the rest to me. And now that we have settled the matter" (both men had sat down) "I wish you to answer me a question which affects a friend of mine, and is connected with Vernon's bank. My friend is a minor. Her affairs were in the hands of trustees. Her trustees--or, I believe, trustee, more accurately--invested the money in Vernon's bank, shares I presume. Now, my friend has heard nothing from the bank about these calls. How is that?" "She has nothing to do with the matter. She has lost all her money." "Yes; but what about the calls?" "The trustee has to pay those." "Out of his own pocket?" "Yes, out of his own pocket." "Supposing him to be an honest man, and that he did everything for the best?" "Supposing him to be an honest man, and that he did everything for the best." "What an infamous injustice! What an infamous injustice to a well-meaning, honest man!" "An infamous injustice you may say, supposing the man to be honest. He gets your friend's money on trust to invest. Here is a highly respectable banking firm which will pay him, according to the market value of its shares, six or seven per cent. He is anxious his ward should have the most interest he can safely get for her money. He invests, and is ruined." Lavirotte started to his feet, threw his arms above his head wildly, and, walking up and down the room, excitedly cried: "By heavens, Mr. O'Donnell, he shall not be ruined, I will see that he shall not be ruined. He did me a bad turn once, or rather he refused to do me a good one when he could; but I shall protect him against this execrable injustice, this infamous law." Mr. O'Donnell did not feel himself justified in asking any questions, and there was no further conversation of any interest that night. Next morning Lavirotte set off for London, arrived in due time, called upon Dora first, and related to her all the interesting particulars of the marriage. She had but a reflected interest in the bride and bridegroom, and, therefore, the subject was soon exhausted. Before this he had, of course, told her of the large fortune into which he hoped to come soon. They had, upon one or two occasions, talked over the loss of her money; but he had always tossed the matter to the winds as of no consequence when confronted with the mighty results he was expecting. Now he had a matter of another kind to speak about. He asked her pointedly, elaborately, how upon the whole Kempston had behaved towards her. She said that no one could have been more kind and considerate, and that the only occasion upon which she had any reason to complain of him, was when he refused to let Lavirotte have the money or her to marry him. Then Lavirotte informed her that not only was her money swallowed up in the Vernon whirlpool, but that Kempston, her trustee, would inevitably be ruined owing to his connection with her and it. The girl was horrified. Then Lavirotte told her that he had sworn this man should not be ruined, and that he meant to keep his oath. She clung to him and kissed him, and praised him with all the dearest words of her heart, for his noble, his sublime generosity, and after some time he left her to see Crawford. He found the old man more busy, more energetic, more enthusiastic, more hopeful than ever. Lavirotte told him that since he had seen him last additional reason had arisen for haste. He did not go into detail. He merely said that business called him hence for a few hours; but that on his return he would throw into the work twice the energy he had previously displayed. "Then," said the old man, "you are digging at once to find a treasure and a grave." "But in what a glorious cause!" cried Lavirotte, in an excited voice. "The cause of honour, of justice, of reparation. When I have secured my dear friends from the disaster which now threatens them, and when I have paid back the prudent parsimony of this attorney a thousandfold, why should I not die! I shall never do a better thing in all my life, and when a man has done his best he ought to go, lest, peradventure, he live to do his worst, and die in doing it." "And Dora?" The look of exaltation faded from the face of Lavirotte. "And Dora, my darling Dora! My own sweet, trusting girl!" he cried, tenderly. "I do not understand myself; I am two beings; I have two natures. To myself I would be merciless to gain this final glory of assuaging the wrong I have done my friends, and in act forgiving the injury this man Kempston has done to me. But Dora! Dora! Then something else comes in, my other self, my weaker self, my better self, perhaps. Any weakness is better than the tyranny of glory, than the lust of applause." He was silent for a while. The old man had listened to him without a word. "Now, I must go and see that attorney, and show him that I am not the interested adventurer he took me for, and that if a little time ago I was willing to borrow a few paltry pounds, which in a year or two should in any case be my own, I am now willing to throw down thousands for him who never did me personally a service, simply because he was kind and good to the woman whom I love." Lavirotte left the tower.