Edward Marston was engaged to Ruth Adrian, and was received by her parents as her accepted suitor. Mrs. Adrian, when the news of Marston’s offer was communicated to her, was first indignant and then tearful. She prophesied the most terrible disasters; she charged Ruth with wishing to disgrace the family, and vowed that she would never be civil to him—never! She declared that the day Ruth married him she would cast her off for ever, and finally relieved her feelings by turning upon her husband and denouncing him as a monster in human shape, for ever giving his sanction to such an arrangement. She declared that Mr. Adrian would have given Ruth to a Red Indian, if that noble savage had only asked him; and she indulged in a half-sarcastic sketch of her poor daughter being united with Red Indian ceremonies to a bridegroom dressed principally in a necklace of scalps, and suggested that if the marriage feast had consisted of cold boiled missionaries, no doubt Mr. Adrian would have accepted an invitation, and expected her to do the same.

‘My dear Mary,’ exclaimed Mr. Adrian, half amused and half annoyed, ‘what on earth has Ned Marston to do with Red Indians and their marriage ceremonies? He isn’t a Red Indian.’

‘No!’ groaned the lady; ‘I’d sooner he was. He’s worse. I always disliked him, and I always shall. What do you know about him? What is he but an adventurer? And what are you going to say to Mr. Egerton, I should like to know?’

‘You needn’t trouble yourself about Mr. Egerton, my dear; he has left the country.’

‘What?’

‘Yes. I have ascertained at his house that he has gone on a voyage to America, and no one knows when he will be back.’

‘Well, I’m sure!’ exclaimed Mrs. Adrian; ‘and never so much as to call on us to say “Good-bye “!’

‘It was not polite, was it?’

‘Polite! But there, I never liked the man. He couldn’t look at you straight in the face.’

Mr. Adrian was too good a diplomatist, having once got his wife into a spirit antagonistic to the deposed favourite, to let the matter rest. He declared he could see no rudeness in it; that a gentleman in Egerton’s position couldn’t be expected to take them into his confidence, etc.; and so skilfully did he play his cards, that at last Mrs. Adrian declared, with genuine indignation, that she believed he would lay himself down and let people trample on him.

‘But I won’t, I can assure you,’ she exclaimed. ‘We’re as good as Mr. Gurth Egerton, every bit, and Ruth’s a wife any prince of the land might be proud of. And to think she should want to throw herself away on this Marston! There, I haven’t patience to talk about it!’

Gradually, however, Mrs. Adrian moderated the rancour of her tongue. Marston was not the man, when he had set his heart on anything, to fail for lack of courage or ability. He was determined to conquer Mrs. Adrian’s apathy, and he succeeded to a limited extent. He was so pleasant, so polite, he yielded so readily in argument, and was so unobtrusive in his visits and so considerate in his attentions to the old lady, that at last she was good enough to acknowledge that really he had changed for the better, and that after all Ruth might have chosen a less presentable and less agreeable sweetheart.

But while Marston was winning his way into the good graces of Ruth’s mother, he was not neglecting the serious aspect of her father’s affairs. He went into the business with a thoroughness which quite astonished Mr. Adrian, and arrived at the result in a very short space of time.

It was not an agreeable result.

No amount of skill and no amount of juggling could solve the arithmetical problem in any way but one.

Taking the estimated amount of the call to be made on each shareholder in the unfortunate Blankshire Bank as correct, nearly the whole of the capital on the interest of which the Adrians lived would be swept away.

It was not a large fortune that Mr. Adrian had retired on, but it was one which he had always considered would be ample for himself and his wife with their inexpensive tastes, and for his daughter when they were gone.

Marston did not attempt to hide the result for a moment. He put it plainly before his future father-in-law. Mr. Adrian must make up his mind to live for the remainder of his days upon the wreck of his little fortune, and that, calculated generously, would yield him about £150 to £200 a year.

‘We must give up this house at once,’ said Mr. Adrian, with a sigh. ‘I feel as if every penny I spend now I am defrauding the creditors of.’

‘Yes, you must give the house up. You cannot keep it on,’ said Marston. He didn’t feign the slightest sorrow. Why should he? He was only too delighted to think that at last he was going to get some pleasure out of the money he had risked so much to get. Roughly estimated, he had cleared by his share in the transactions of Smith and Co. some £25,000. Some of the ‘hauls,’ as they are technically called, had been enormous. He could employ his £25,000 legitimately now; and he was certain that with this capital and his talents he could speculate as successfully in honesty as he had formerly done in crime.

‘Yes, you must give up your house,’ he repeated; ‘and the sooner the better.’

‘It is a terrible blow,’ exclaimed the old man, the tears coming into his eyes, ‘to break up the home where we’ve been so happy all these years. Poor mother—how ever shall I break it to her!’

‘I have a plan,’ said Marston, eagerly, taking the old gentleman’s hand, and watching his face anxiously. ‘Let this marriage take place as soon as possible. Ruth does not wish to be separated from you. Come and live with us. That can be your excuse to Mrs. Adrian for selling off.’

For a moment the old man doubted if he heard aright. Then, smiling through the big drops that trickled down his cheek, he pressed the young man’s hand exclaiming:

‘God bless you, Ned Marston; you are a good fellow!’

So in due time it was all arranged. The marriage was to take place in a short time; there was no need for a long engagement now, for had not the sweethearts been as good as engaged over ten years ago? Mrs. Adrian, of course, protested against the idea that she should give up her home and go to Ruth’s; but she yielded at last—yielded suddenly and decisively when Mr. Adrian began to oppose the idea, pretending that he had thought better of it.

At the Adrians’ Marston passed now the happiest hours he had ever known. He had grown to both admire and reverence his future father-in-law. The nobility of the old man’s character was brought iuto full relief by the blow which had fallen on him so unexpectedly; and often Marston would watch him as he sat with Ruth’s hind in his, and wondered what his own old age would be like. He shuddered even as he thought of it.

Yet when he could keep his thoughts from the past and lose his dread of the future, he was supremely happy. Ruth’s love seemed to have flung a cloak of purity about him that shielded and protected him. It seemed to him that he had passed from purgatory to paradise; that loving Ruth, and being beloved by her, he was lifted to a purer atmosphere, where nothing that was evil could follow him.

This was the bright side of his life during the days of courtship—during the time that must pass before he could call Ruth his wife.

The gold-robbery, in which he had been the leading spirit, had created an enormous sensation. Not only England but the Continent rang with the story of the daring and mysterious theft.

It was impossible for the authorities to say where it had taken place. The English company repudiated all liability, declaring that it had been committed on the French line; and the French company were equally confident that the gold had been abstracted in England. Then both parties met on mutual ground, and argued that it might have been done on the steamer. The loss was not discovered until the safes were opened in Paris, so that in the lawsuits which followed there really was no proof to offer as to where the responsibility really lay. The matter was eventually compromised, but no clue was obtained to the thieves, though the detective departments of both countries went into the matter con amore, in hope of elucidating the international mystery.

In the meantime the thieves had had to proceed with the utmost caution in realizing their booty, and many an anxious moment had Marston to pass before he could consider himself the master of the little fortune his railway journey had resulted in.

Some of the bullion was disposed of through trustworthy channels, where no trace would be left, but a large quantity of it had to be melted down before it could be conveniently got rid of.

During all this time Marston had to meet and consult with his companions in crime. These meetings distressed and annoyed him. He shrank almost with horror from the familiar salutations of Heckett, Brooks, and Preene. He felt degraded and contaminated by them. It seemed to him that he was outraging Ruth by going into her presence after he had quitted the society of his accomplices.

They began to notice his altered manner and they became suspicious of him. Was it possible he was going to turn traitor? His face sometimes wore the nervous, anxious look which the professional Judas cannot always banish. But, consulting together, Heckett, Brooks, and Preene dismissed the notion as absurd. How could he play them false? It was to his interest not to. Besides, he had the reputation of being a chief among swindlers—a master-mind. It is not from such men there is danger to be feared. It is generally some outsider, who hasn’t the talent to make a rogue, who proves a traitor, and, lacking pluck, turns his cowardice to some account.

Marston saw that his manner was attracting notice, and he controlled himself directly. He hurried on the settlement, however, and even agreed to accept less than his original share in order to get out of the business.

When, in due course, everything had been safely done and the traces removed, the four men met for the last time in a lonely house which they had taken near Kilburn, and where the melting operations had been conducted.

It had been agreed between them that, once their joint property realized and the division fairly made, they should separate for good. Marston had long ago announced his intention to ‘turn the game up;’ Brooks had determined to get out of the country for a bit in case of accidents; Preene had not said what he was going to do, and Heckett had been equally silent. He had never been very communicative, and as he was only an extra hand, laid on for this special job, none of them troubled much about him.

When the night came, however, for them to separate, and they left the house, Heckett, who had walked on by himself, found that Marston was coming quickly after him.

‘Well, Josh,’ he said, in his cheeriest tones, ‘I don’t think you’ve done badly, have you?’

‘I ain’t done as well as you,’ answered Mr. Heckett, surlily; ‘but then I ain’t a swell.’

‘What are you going to do now Josh? Going into the animal Une again?’

‘No, I ain’t got no animals now, savin’ that there parrot, as cusses wus nor ever. I carn’t have no business now the gal’s gorn. She was my right hand like, and I ain’t been the same since she went.’

‘Oh,’ said Marston, looking at Heckett quite innocently, ‘then she’s never come back?’

‘Come back? no. I’ve heerd on her twice as she’s safe and ‘appy, but I ain’t been able to find out where she is. In a re-formeratury or something, I s’pose.’

‘Very likely,’ answered Marston.

‘I thought oncet as somebody had got ‘old on her for to get her to blab about the crib; but I don’t think that, cus they’d a sent her back directly they found out as she know’d nothink. Still it’s a rum go, her hookin’ it like that. I shall come across her some day, I guess,’ added the old dog-fancier, shaking his fist at an imaginary Gertie, ‘and then I’ll make it warm for her, the jade.’

They had reached the end of the Kilburn Road, and were getting to Maida Vale.

‘I’m going off here, Josh,’ said Marston. ‘If we don’t meet again, good-night.’

‘If we don’t meet again!’ exclaimed Heckett, with surprise. ‘What, are you a-goin’ to furren parts?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘That’s ockard,’ growled Heckett. ‘Suppose I might want to see you on business?’

‘I’ve finished with business.’

Heckett contracted his features into something that was meant for a smile.

‘Going to retire, eh? Made your fortin. Well, you have had a good haul out of this affair, and no mistake. Come, gov’nor, don’t you think you ought to stand me another thou.?’

‘No, I don’t,’ answered Marston decidedly. ‘A bargain’s a bargain, and you’ve had your share.’

‘All right, gov’nor; only, of course, the more I get now the less likely I should be to get hard up and ‘ave pr’aps to come a ferretin’ out old friends and a borrerin’ of ‘em.’

Marston looked at his companion sharply. He understood the implied threat.

‘When that misfortune happens, Josh, it will be time enough to talk about it. Good night.’

Without stopping to bear Heckett’s reply, Marston turned away from him, crossed the road, and turned down a side street. He was anxious to cut the conversation short, for it annoyed him.

Heckett’s half-veiled threat had seriously alarmed him. He had so much need now to bury the past, and he didn’t at all relish the idea of Josh Heckett pursuing him into the happy future which he hoped and believed awaited him.