a mistake--that he did sign those checks for the amounts drawn from
the bank. That will paralyze Ormsby, and leave him powerless."

"Lies! lies!--we are wallowing in lies!" groaned the rector.

"When a lie can hurt no one, and can avert a terrible calamity, perjury
can be no sin. God knows I have been punished enough." Then, with a
sudden anger and a burst of violence so unusual in his wife that it
horrified the rector, she began to abuse her father, calling him every
terrible, foolish name that came to her tongue.

"He shall pay the penalty of his fraud," she cried. "Thief he calls
me--well, it's bred in the bone. Set a thief to catch a thief. I've run
him to earth. He'll have to lose hundreds of thousands, and more. It
will send him wild with terror. Think what that'll mean! Think how he'll
cringe and whine and implore! It'll be like plucking out his heart. I
have the whip-hand of him now, and he shall dance to my tune. I shouldn't
be surprised if compulsory honesty and the restoration of ill-gotten
wealth were to kill him."

"Mary, Mary, be calm!"

"I'm going to him now," she cried. "We'll see who will be worsted in the
fight. I'll silence his taunts. There'll be no more chuckling over his
daughter's misery--no more insults and abuse of you, John."

"My dear Mary, you mustn't think of going now. You're unsprung, overcome.
You'll do something rash. Let us be satisfied for the present with this
great change of fortune. One ghost at least is laid--the terror of
poverty. The way lies open now for our honorable confession. You see
that, don't you?" he pleaded. "We can delay no longer. There is no
excuse. By the return of our boy, the ground was cut from beneath our
feet. What does it matter what the world says of us, when we have made
things right with our God, when we have done justice by our brave son?"

"Oh, no--think of Netty."

"Ah, Netty is in trouble, dearest. She's had bad news to-day. Harry Bent
talks of canceling his engagement. The scandal has reached the ears of
his family, and his money-affairs are dependent on his mother, whom he
can't offend. You see, darling, the sins of the fathers have begun to
descend on the children--Dick and Netty both stricken. We must
confess!--confess!"

"I can't, John, I can't--I can't. Dick won't hear of it."

"Dick has no voice in the matter at all. It is the voice of God that
calls."

"Yes, yes, I know, John, but--wait till I've seen father once more. I
won't list