th. The old man was of too tough a fibre to break down
completely, but his bony hands closed convulsively upon the arms of the
chair, and a cold perspiration broke out upon his wrinkled forehead as
he listened to such details as his son vouchsafed to afford him.

"You have your stones all safe, though?" he stammered out at last.

"They are in my box, at home," said Ezra, gloomy and morose, leaning
against the white marble mantelpiece. "The Lord knows what they are
worth! We'll be lucky if we clear as much as they cost and a margin for
my expenses and Langworthy's. A broken head is all that I have got from
your fine scheme."

"Who could foresee such a thing?" the old man said plaintively.
He might have added Major Clutterbuck's thousand pounds as another item
to be cleared, but he thought it as well to keep silent upon the point.

"Any fool could foresee the possibility of it," quoth Ezra brusquely.

"The fall in prices is sure to be permanent, then?" the old man asked.

"It will last for some years, any way," Ezra answered.
"The Jagersfontein gravel is very rich, and there seems to be plenty of
it."

"And within a few months we must repay both capital and interest.
We are ruined!" The old merchant spoke in a broken voice, and his head
sank upon his breast. "When that day comes," he continued, "the firm
which has been for thirty years above reproach, and a model to the whole
City, will be proclaimed as a bankrupt concern. Worse still, it will be
shown to have been kept afloat for years by means which will be deemed
fraudulent. I tell you, my dear son, that if any means could be devised
which would avert this--_any_ means--I should not hesitate to adopt
them. I am a frail old man, and I feel that the short balance of my
life would be a small thing for me to give in return for the assurance
that the work which I have built up should not be altogether thrown
away."

"Your life cannot affect the matter one way or the other unless it were
more heavily insured than it is," Ezra said callously, though somewhat
moved by his father's intensity of manner. "Perhaps there is some way
out of the wood yet," he added, in a more cheerful tone.

"It's so paying, so prosperous--that's what goes to my heart. If it had
ruined itself it would be easier to bear it, but it is sacrificed to
outside speculations--my wretched, wretched speculations. That is what
makes it so hard." He touched the bell, and Gilray answered the