you?"

"Yes," the bailiff answered with a groan; "I've had it, worse luck."

"And how has it gone?"

"What's that to you? What's the good of my muddling my brains with
figures to-night? It's gone, I tell you. You know I'm fond of seeing a
race, and never miss anything in that way that comes-off within a day's
drive of this place. I used to be pretty lucky once upon a time, when I
backed a horse or bet against one. But this year things have gone dead
against me; and my bad luck made me savage somehow, so that I went deeper
than I've been before, thinking to get back what I'd lost."

"O, father, father! how could you, and with another man's money?"

"Don't give me any of your preaching," the bailiff answered gloomily; "I
can get enough of that at Malsham Chapel if I want it. It's in your power
to pull me through this business if you choose."

"How can I do that, father?"

"A couple of hundred pounds will set me square. I don't say there hasn't
been more taken, first and last; but that would do it. Stephen Whitelaw
would lend me the money--give it me, indeed, for it comes to that--the
day he gets your consent to be his wife."

"And you'd sell me to him for two hundred pounds, father?" the girl asked
bitterly.

"I don't want to go to gaol."

"And if you don't get the money from Stephen, what will happen?"

"I can't tell you that to a nicety. Penal servitude for life, most
likely. They'd call mine a bad case, I daresay."

"But Sir David might be merciful to you, father. You've served him for
along time."

"What would he care for that? I've had his money, and he's not a man that
can afford to lose much. No, Nell, I look for no mercy from Sir David;
those careless easy-going men are generally the hardest in such a
business as this. It's a clear case of embezzlement, and nothing can save
me unless I can raise money enough to satisfy him."

"Couldn't you borrow it of some one else besides Stephen Whitelaw?"

"Who else is there that would lend me two hundred pounds? Ask yourself
that, girl. Why, I haven't five pounds' worth of security to offer."

"And Mr. Whitelaw will only lend the money upon one condition?"

"No, curse him!" cried William Carley savagely. "I've been at him all
this afternoon, when you and that woman were out of the room, trying to
get it out of him as a loan, without waiting for your promise; but he's
too cautious for that. 'The day Ellen gives her consent, you shall have
the money,' he tol