d been going on, and now, our wedding day being fixed a week
ahead, we all set out sightseeing and having a good time generally. I
now engaged the coachman I had met before as my valet, and a very good,
all-around, handy man he proved to be. Of course I was anxious to hear
that the first coup on the bank had succeeded, but I was tolerably
confident it was all right. Had it fallen through it would have proved
awkward for me. In that event the Paris climate would have been too warm
for me, and I would have had to find a score of excuses to hasten our
marriage and leave for the Western World as speedily as possible.

I had a four-in-hand coach, and we drove everywhere in and around Paris,
once to Versailles and on to Fontainebleau, where we dined, a merry
party. What a strange world is this, what a stage it is, ever crowded
with tragedies, too! How absolutely in the dark we are as to the motives
and actions of men.

There I was, the centre of merry pleasure parties in gay Paris. A young
dude, driving my four-in-hand, and yet a criminal, waiting in hourly
expectation a telegram announcing success in a great plot which, when it
exploded, was destined to startle the business world, and to hurl me
from the summit of happiness, where I was reveling, apparently free from
care, to the misery of a dungeon, banishing the happy smiles from my
face and the joyous ring from my voice, leaving in place of the smiles
the sombre gloom of the prison, and in place of the snatches of song and
eager accents I was wont to speak with, the hushed voice subdued to
prison tones.

Late one morning, on opening my eyes, my first thought was: It will be
hit or miss at the Bank of England within the next sixty minutes. We had
engaged for a coaching party to Versailles and were to dine there. I
left for the drive that day with a dim fear that before the sun set I
might be under the necessity of leaving Paris in a hurry.

When starting for Versailles I left my servant behind to wait for the
expected telegram, and to bring it to me by rail. We were at dinner, and
I was just raising a glass of champagne to my lips when I saw my valet,
Nunn, crossing the esplanade. He entered the room and handed me a
telegram. Tearing open the envelope I read:

"All well. Bought and shipped forty bales."

That meant the first lot for $40,000 had gone through safely. It was
certainly a great relief. The next day I received $25,000 in United
States bonds, from George in