at time, Mr. Melton was resigned to wait, with
the disciplined patience to which he had been mainly indebted for his
success in life.

"Always remember your mother tenderly, my child," said Amelius, as they
left the burial ground. "She was sorely tried, poor thing, in her life
time, and she loved you very dearly."

"Do you know anything of my father?" Sally asked timidly. "Is he still
living?"

"My dear, you will never see your father. I must be all that the kindest
father and mother could have been to you, now. Oh, my poor little girl!"

She pressed his arm to her as she held it. "Why should you pity me?" she
said. "Haven't I got You?"

They passed the day together quietly at the cottage. Amelius took down
some of his books, and pleased Sally by giving her his first lessons.
Soon after ten o'clock she withdrew, at the usual early hour, to her
room. In her absence, he sent for Toff, intending to warn him not to be
alarmed if he heard footsteps in the garden, after they had all gone to
bed. The old servant had barely entered the library, when he was called
away by the bell at the outer gate. Amelius, looking into the hall,
discovered Morcross, and signed to him eagerly to come in. The
police-officer closed the door cautiously behind him. He had arrived
with news that Jervy was found.

CHAPTER 4

"Where has he been found?" Amelius asked, snatching up his hat.

"There's no hurry, sir," Morcross answered quietly. "When I had the
honour of seeing you yesterday, you said you meant to make Jervy suffer
for what he had done. Somebody else has saved you the trouble. He was
found this evening in the river."

"Drowned?"

"Stabbed in three places, sir; and put out of the way in the
river--that's the surgeon's report. Robbed of everything he
possessed--that's the police report, after searching his pockets."

Amelius was silent. It had not entered into his calculations that crime
breeds crime, and that the criminal might escape him under that law.
For the moment, he was conscious of a sense of disappointment, revealing
plainly that the desire for vengeance had mingled with the higher
motives which animated him. He felt uneasy and ashamed, and longed as
usual to take refuge in action from his own unwelcome thoughts. "Are
you sure it is the man?" he asked. "My description may have misled the
police--I should like to see him myself."

"Certainly, sir. While we are about it, if you feel any curiosity to
trace Jervy'