have
spoken at least."

"Yes, Hopgood would have spoken."

The tone in which this was uttered made Bertram look up. "You agree with
me, then, that Hopgood is absolutely to be relied upon?"

"Absolutely." A faint flush on Mr. Sylvester's face lent force to this
statement.

"He could not be beguiled or forced by another man to reveal the
combination, or to relax his watch over the vaults entrusted to his
keeping?"

"No."

"He is alone with the vaults where the boxes are kept for an hour or two
in the early morning!"

"Yes, and has been for three years. Hopgood is honesty itself."

"And so are Folger and Jessup and Watson," exclaimed Bertram
emphatically.

"Yes," his uncle admitted, with equal emphasis.

"It is a mystery," Bertram declared; "and one I fear that will undo me."

"Nonsense!" broke forth somewhat impatiently from Mr. Sylvester's lips;
"there is no reason at this time for any such conclusion. If there is a
thief in the bank he can be found; if the robbery was committed by an
outsider, he may still be discovered. If he is not, if the mystery rests
forever unexplained, you have your character, Bertram, a character as
spotless as that of any of your fellows, whom we regard as above
suspicion. A man is not going to be condemned by such a judge of human
nature as Mr. Stuyvesant, just because a mysterious crime has been
committed, to which the circumstances of his position alone render it
possible for him to be party. You might as well say that Jessup and
Folger and Watson--yes, or myself, would in that case lose his
confidence. They are in the bank, and are constantly in the habit of
going to the vaults."

"None of those gentlemen want to marry his daughter," murmured Bertram.
"It is not the director I fear, but the father. I have so little to
bring her. Only my character and my devotion."

"Well, well, pluck up courage, my boy. I have hopes yet that the whole
matter can be referred to some mistake easily explainable when once it
is discovered. Mistakes, even amongst the honest and the judicious, are
not so uncommon as one is apt to imagine. I, myself, have known of one
which if providence had not interfered, might have led to doubts
seemingly as inconsistent as yours. To-morrow we will consider the
question at length. To-night--Well, Bertram, what is it?"

The young man started and dropped his eyes, which during the last words
of his uncle had been fixed upon his face with strange and penetratin