e sort made him unreasonably uncomfortable
till this one was safely cashed. And after all, you know it was stealing
of an indirect sort; for the money was de Barral's money if the account
was in the name of the accomplished lady. At any rate the cheque was
cashed. On getting hold of the notes and gold he recovered his jaunty
bearing, it being well known that with certain natures the presence of
money (even stolen) in the pocket, acts as a tonic, or at least as a
stimulant. He cocked his hat a little on one side as though he had had a
drink or two--which indeed he might have had in reality, to celebrate the
occasion.

The governess had been waiting for his return in the hall, disregarding
the side-glances of the butler as he went in and out of the dining-room
clearing away the breakfast things. It was she, herself, who had opened
the door so promptly. "It's all right," he said touching his
breast-pocket; and she did not dare, the miserable wretch without
illusions, she did not dare ask him to hand it over. They looked at each
other in silence. He nodded significantly: "Where is she now?" and she
whispered "Gone into the drawing-room. Want to see her again?" with an
archly black look which he acknowledged by a muttered, surly: "I am
damned if I do. Well, as you want to bolt like this, why don't we go
now?"

She set her lips with cruel obstinacy and shook her head. She had her
idea, her completed plan. At that moment the Fynes, still at the window
and watching like a pair of private detectives, saw a man with a long
grey beard and a jovial face go up the steps helping himself with a thick
stick, and knock at the door. Who could he be?

He was one of Miss de Barral's masters. She had lately taken up painting
in water-colours, having read in a high-class woman's weekly paper that a
great many princesses of the European royal houses were cultivating that
art. This was the water-colour morning; and the teacher, a veteran of
many exhibitions, of a venerable and jovial aspect, had turned up with
his usual punctuality. He was no great reader of morning papers, and
even had he seen the news it is very likely he would not have understood
its real purport. At any rate he turned up, as the governess expected
him to do, and the Fynes saw him pass through the fateful door.

He bowed cordially to the lady in charge of Miss de Barral's education,
whom he saw in the hall engaged in conversation with a very good-looking