of Calford. He pondered fearfully, and hard, practical as was his
nature, the money-lender allowed his imagination to run riot over
possibilities which surely his cooler judgment would have scoffed at.

Lablache rose hurriedly from his chair. It only wanted a quarter to
five. Putting his head through the partition doorway he ordered his
astonished clerks to close up. He felt that he could not--dare not keep
the store open longer. Then he inspected the private door of his office.
The spring catch was fast. He locked his safe. All the time he moved
about fearfully--like some hunted criminal. At last he returned to his
seat. His bilious eyes roved over the various objects in the room. A
hunted look was in them. His mind seemed fixed on one thought alone--the
coming of Retief.

After this he grew more calm. Perhaps the knowledge that the store was
secure now against any intruder helped to steady his nerves. Then he
started--was the store secure? He rose again and went to the window to
put up the shutter. He gazed out towards the Foss River Ranch, and, as
he gazed, he saw some one riding fast towards the settlement.

The horseman came nearer; the sight fascinated the great man. Now the
traveler had reached the market place, and was coming on towards the
store. Suddenly the money-lender recognized in the horseman one of
Horrocks's troopers, mounted on a horse from John Allandale's stable. A
wild hope leapt up in his heart. Then, as the man drew nearer and
Lablache saw the horrified expression of his face, hope went from him,
and he feared the worst.

The clatter of hoofs ceased outside the office door. Lablache stepped
heavily forward and threw it open. He stood framed in the doorway as the
man gasped out his terrible news.

"He's drowned, sir, drowned before our eyes. We tried, but couldn't save
him. He would go, sir; we tried to persuade him, but he would go. No
more than fifty yards from the bank, and then down he went. He was out
of sight in two minutes. It was horrible, sir, and him never uttered a
sound. I'm going in to Stormy Cloud to report an' get instructions.
Anything I can do, sir?"

So the worst was realized. For the moment the money-lender could find no
words. His tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. His last hope--the
last barrier between him and the man whom he considered his arch enemy,
Retief, seemed to have been shattered. He thought not of the horror of
the policeman's drowning; he felt no sorrow