ndest estates in British Columbia, why, my name
ain't Pritchard."

"But I haven't a penny in the world," Tavernake objected.

"That's where you're lying," Pritchard remarked, pulling a newspaper
from his pocket. "See the advertisement for yourself: 'Leonard
Tavernake, something to his advantage.' Well, down I went to those
lawyers--your old lawyer it was--Martin. I told him I was on your track,
and he said--'For Heaven's sake, send the fellow along!' Say, Tavernake,
he made me laugh the way he described your bursting in upon him and
telling him to take your land for his costs, and walking out of the room
like something almighty. Why, he worked that thing so that they had to
buy your land, and they took him into partnership. He's made a pot of
money, and needs no costs from you, and there's the money for your land
and what he had of yours besides, waiting for you."

Tavernake smoked stolidly at his pipe. His eyes were out seaward, but
his heart was beating to a new and splendid music. To start life again,
a man's life, out in the solitudes, out in the great open spaces! It was
gorgeous, this! He turned round and grasped Pritchard by the shoulder.

"I say," he exclaimed, "why are you doing all this for me, Pritchard?"

Pritchard laughed.

"You did me a good turn," he said, "and you're a man. You've the
pluck--that's what I like. You knew nothing, you were as green and
ignorant as a young man from behind the counter of a country shop, but,
my God! you'd got the right stuff, and I meant getting even with you
if I could. You'll leave here with me to-morrow, and in three weeks we
sail."

Ruth came smiling out from the house.

"Won't you bring your friend in to supper, Mr. Tavernake?" she begged.
"It's good news, I hope?" she added, lowering her voice a little.

"It's the best," Tavernake declared, "the best!"

CHAPTER V. BEATRICE REFUSES

A week later Tavernake was in London. A visit to his friend Mr. Martin
had easily proved the truth of Pritchard's words, and he found himself
in possession of a sum of money at least twice as great as he had
anticipated. He stayed at a cheap hotel in the Strand and made purchases
under Pritchard's supervision. For the first few days he was too busy
for reflection. Then Pritchard let him alone while he ran over to Paris,
and Tavernake suddenly realized that he was in the city to which he had
thought never to return. He passed the back of the theatre where he had
waited fo