pe that
had arisen within me."

"But, Mr. Derwent"--I was groping around vainly for a loophole of
escape--"this Mr. Mainwaring, is he poor? does he need the money? will
he use it well?"

"What does that matter?" he replied. "His wealth or poverty cannot
affect the question of right or wrong. The money is his by right. _I_
robbed him of it by forensic cunning and rhetoric, and I will repay
him. As a matter of fact he is fabulously wealthy, and L7,000 is to
him a mere drop in an ocean. And he spends his money on horses and
dissipation. He is a bigger scoundrel than Lessingham, and that is
saying much."

"But what a shame, Mr. Derwent! It does not seem right."

"It can never be wrong to do right. Besides, I misled you at the
outset of our conversation--misled you purposely. I could not change
my mind now if I wished to do so, for I posted Mainwaring a cheque for
the full amount this morning."

I felt ready to cry, but there was as much joy as sorrow in my breast.
I believe I smiled, and I held out my hand, which he grasped and
retained a moment.

At that instant a telegraph boy pushed open the gate and advanced
towards me.

"Miss Holden?" he inquired.

I took the envelope and tore it open. It contained only a brief
message:

"Zermatt. _July_ 22_nd._

"Please come soon as possible. See Derwent.

"EVANS. Hotel Victoria."

I burst into tears, and went into the house.

CHAPTER XXI

AT ZERMATT

I cannot truthfully say that sad thoughts were uppermost during the
hours that followed. After all, it was my first trip to the Continent,
and although I am thirty-six years old, and might be expected to have
got over mere juvenile excitements, I confess to a feeling of cheerful
anticipation. Of course the squire was always in the background of my
thoughts, but I had no sense of apprehension such as sometimes
oppresses one before an approaching calamity.

And it was so nice to have everything arranged for me, and to find
myself in possession of time-tables and railway-coupons and a clear
itinerary of the journey without the slightest effort or inconvenience
on my part. Undoubtedly man has his uses, if he is a clear-headed,
kind-hearted fellow like the Cynic.

When the whistle sounded and the boat express glided out of Charing
Cross I waved my handkerchief from the window as long as I could see
him, and then settled down into the luxurious cushions and gave myself
up to reflection. How