“I’ve got a bit of money. I was a fool! There’s an old-fashioned diary in that library that his lordship would give a couple of thousand pounds to get back, and I had it in my hand! That is the thing I ought to have pinched.”

“And if it was found on you, you’d have been in prison. As it was, you had taken money and you got away with it.”

This point of view had not struck the ex-convict before.

“That’s true,” he agreed. “Lord! what a headpiece you’ve got, Mr Gilder! If I had your brains–”

But Mr Gilder was not in a mood for flattery.

“I’ve got an idea,” Thomas went on, unconscious of the distraction he was causing. “Let me go up to London tonight and come down tomorrow.”

But Gilder did not hear him. Fifty thousand pounds! And for that price he could buy – Leslie Gine! His pulse quickened at the thought. There were no “ifs” or “buts.” She would gladly make that sacrifice for her brother’s sake. This time he had them all in the hollow of his hand: Leslie, Arthur Gine, and last, but not least in dislike, Dick Alford.

Mentally he reviewed his financial position. He had considerably over a hundred thousand pounds in gilt-edged securities, which were easily realisable – or transferable. He had house property in the north of London, and a fairly large fluid balance at the bank. And he was fifty. There were fifteen years of life ahead of him – fifteen happy years. How could he better use his money than in buying happiness? The life companionship of that fragrant thing, and afterwards a will whereby she lost all interest in his property if she married again – Mr Gilder thought a long way ahead. And his marriage would be a knife in the heart of the second son, for he guessed Dick Alford’s secret.

He saw his way now; the plan was fool-proof and invincible. Nothing stood between him and the realisation of what had once been a wild and foolish hope.

“A week? You’re sure of that?”

Thomas nodded. His cunning eyes had not left Gilder’s face. Unconscious of the curious scrutiny, Fabrian asked: “Why do you think this news is interesting to me?”

The man grinned and closed his right eye in a significant wink.

“Didn’t you ask me to tell you how often the young lady went to Fossaway Manor? Didn’t you tell me to write everything that happened between her and his lordship?”

Gilder was silent.

It was not a comfortable thought that he had employed such a man as this to watch the girl he loved.

“You’d better keep close here,” he said. “I don’t want you to be seen by the villagers or by the people from Fossaway Manor. Does anybody know you’re here?”

“No, sir. Not even Miss Gine: she never asked–”

Gilder interrupted him brusquely.