r be found, so long
as you and I and the world shall last!"

They looked at him in consternation--Lionel, Frederick Massingbird, and
Robin Frost. Mr. Verner recollected himself, and calmed his spirit down.

"I mean, Robin," he more quietly said, "that a reward will be useless.
The villain has been too cunning, rely upon it, to--to--leave his traces
behind him."

"It might be tried, sir," respectfully urged Robin. "I'd work--"

"You can come up to-morrow, Robin, and I'll talk with you," interrupted
Mr. Verner. "I am too ill--too much upset to-night. Come at any hour you
please, after twelve, and I will see you."

"I'll come, sir. I've registered a vow afore my old father," went on
Robin, lifting his right arm, "and I register it again afore you,
sir--afore our future master, Mr. Lionel--that I'll never leave a stone
unturned by night nor by day, that I'll make it my first and foremost
business in life to find that man. And when I've found him--let him be
who he will--either him or me shall die. So help me--"

"Be still, Robin!" passionately interposed Mr. Verner, in a voice that
startled the man. "Vows are bad things. I have found them so."

"It was registered afore, sir," significantly answered Robin, as he
turned away. "I'll be up here to-morrow."

The morrow brought forth two departures from Verner's Pride. John
Massingbird started for London in pursuit of his journey, Mr. Verner
having behaved to him liberally. And Lionel Verner was summoned in hot
haste to Paris, where his brother had just met with an accident, and was
supposed to be lying between life and death.

CHAPTER IX.

MR. VERNER'S ESTRANGEMENT.

The former chapters may be looked upon somewhat in the light of an
introduction to what is to follow. It was necessary to relate the events
recorded in them, but we must take a leap of not far short of two years
from the date of their occurrence.

John Massingbird and his attendant, Luke Roy, had arrived safely at
Melbourne in due course. Luke had written home one letter to his mother,
and there his correspondence ended; but John Massingbird wrote
frequently, both to Mrs. Verner and to his brother Frederick. John,
according to his own account, appeared to be getting on all one way. The
money he took out had served him well. He had made good use of it, and
was accumulating a fortune rapidly. Such was his statement; but whether
implicit reliance might be placed upon it was a question. Gay John wa