ising that Judge
Bolitho regarded Paul's request as an unpardonable piece of
impertinence.

"Can't you be happy without her?" she asked at length.

"Never!" he replied. "Everything I may get in life could be but Dead
Sea fruit now! Oh, mother, if only I had a name, if we could find out
the truth!"

He was sorry he had spoken the moment the words passed his lips. He
saw that her face became hard and set, that her eyes burnt with deadly
anger. "Do you know that she is engaged to young Wilson?" she asked at
length.

"What!"

"It's all over the town, Paul; there can be no doubt about it! It's in
the newspaper."

"She does not care for him!" he cried. "She cannot!"

"But he'll be one of the richest men in Lancashire, Paul!"

"But she could not! She could not!"

"Perhaps it explains this letter," said his mother. "Judge Bolitho has
doubtless set his heart upon his daughter marrying a rich man, and her
feelings are not considered. But don't give up hope, Paul. Don't give
up hope. Ned Wilson shall never have her!"

"But what can we do, mother?"

"Are you a son of mine to talk like that?" she asked. "Can you, a
strong man, give up tamely?"

"No," cried Paul. "I'll not give up tamely; but of course her father
is against me, and he has chosen Ned Wilson for her. As you say, he'll
be one of the richest men in Lancashire, and now that Mr. Bolitho has
become a judge, his income will not be so much as it was. However,
I'll put a stop to it; I can and I will!"

"How can you do it?" asked the mother.

"Never mind," replied Paul. "But it shall be done." That same night
he wrote a letter to Ned Wilson.

"Dear Sir," he wrote.

"Circumstances necessitate that I shall have an interview with you
immediately on a very important matter. Will you kindly let me have a
note by return of post when and where I can see you? I may add that
the matter is of such importance that you must not think of refusing
me."

The next day he received a type-written letter from Wilson, in the
third person:

"Mr. Edward Wilson is sorry that he cannot see Mr. Paul Stepaside, as
there is no conceivable matter on which he could think of granting him
an interview."

Paul read this curt note with a grim smile upon his lips and an almost
murderous look in his eyes. But he made no comment.

Before many hours were over he had discovered Wilson's whereabouts, and
had determined to waylay him. They met in a lane not fa