s drawing-rooms, filled with objects of high art,
statues stolen from the Vatican, gems obtained by Heaven knows what
stratagems from Italian or Spanish convents, none deigned to notice
by even a passing look the treasures that surrounded them. In vain the
heavenly beauty of Raphael beamed from the walls,--in vain the seductive
glances of Greuze in all their languishing voluptuousness,--in vain the
haughty nobility of Van Dyck claimed the homage of a passing look. All
were eagerly bent upon lists of stocks and shares, and no words were
heard save such as told of rise or fall,--the alternations of that
chance which makes or mars humanity.

It was while in the midst of that distinguished company Mr. Dunn
received the telegram we have mentioned in our last chapter as
despatched by Mr. Hankes. His was a nature long inured to the ups and
downs of fortune; his great self-teaching had been principally directed
to the very point of how best to meet emergencies; and yet, as he read
over these brief lines, for a moment his courage seemed to have deserted
him.

"Chimbarago Artesian Well and Water Company," lisped out a very pale,
sickly-looking Countess. "Shares are rising, Mr. Dunn; may I venture
upon them?"

"Here's the Marquesas Harbor of Refuge scheme going to smash, Dunn!"
whispered an old gentleman, with a double eye-glass, his hand trembling
as it held the share-list. "Eh, what do you say to that?"

"Glengariff 's going steadily up,--steadily up," muttered Lord
Glengariff, in Dunn's ear. Then, struck by the sudden pallor of his
face, he added, "Are you ill?--are you faint?"

"A mere nothing," said Dunn, carelessly. "By the way, what hour is
it? Near one, and I have an appointment with the Chancellor of the
Exchequer. Yes, Lady Massingberd, perfectly safe; not a splendid
investment, but quite sure. Cagliari Cobalts are first-rate, Sir George;
take all you can get of them. The Dalmatian line _is_ guaranteed 'by
the Austrian Government, my Lord. I saw the Ambassador yesterday. Pray
excuse a hasty leave-taking."

His carriage was quickly ordered, but before he set out he despatched a
short telegraphic message to Hankes. It ran thus: "Detain her; suffer no
letters from her to reach the post." This being duly sent off, he drove
to Downing Street. That dingy old temple of intrigue was well known to
him. His familiar steps had mounted that gloomy old stair some scores of
times; but now, for the first--the very first time in