The Secret of the Tower

by Anthony Hope

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE CHIEF MOURNERS

  The attendance was small at Mr. Saffron's funeral. Besides meek anddepressed Mrs. Wiles, and Beaumaroy himself, Doctor Mary found herself,rather to her surprise, in company with old Mr. Naylor. On comparingnotes she discovered that, like herself, he had come on Beaumaroy'surgent invitation and, moreover, that he was engaged also to come onafterwards to Tower Cottage, where Beaumaroy was to entertain the chiefmourners at a mid-day repast. "Glad enough to show my respect to aneighbor," said old Naylor. "And I always liked the old man's looks. Butreally I don't see why I should go to lunch. However, Beaumaroy--"

  Mary did not see why he should go to lunch--nor, for that matter, whyshe should either, but curiosity about the chief mourners made herglad that she was going. The chief mourners did not look, at firstsight, attractive. Mr. Radbolt was a short plump man, with a weasellyface and cunning eyes; his wife's eyes, of a greeny color, staredstolidly out from her broad red face; she was taller than her mate, andher figure contrived to be at once stout and angular. All through theservice, Beaumaroy's gaze was set on the pair as they sat or stood infront of him, wandering from the one to the other in an apparentlyfascinated study.

  At the Cottage he entertained his party in the parlor with a generoushospitality, and treated the Radbolts with most courteous deference. Theman responded with the best manners that he had--who can do more? Thewoman was much less cordial; she was curt, and treated Beaumaroy ratheras the servant than the friend of her dead cousin; there was a clearsuggestion of suspicion in her bearing towards him. After a broad stareof astonishment on her introduction to "Dr. Arkroyd," she took verylittle notice of Mary; only to Mr. Naylor was she clumsily civil andeven rather cringing; it was clear that in him she acknowledged thegentleman. He sat by her, and she tried to insinuate herself into aprivate conversation with him, apart from the others, probing him as tohis knowledge of the dead man and his mode of living. Her questionshovered persistently round the point of Mr. Saffron's expenditure.

  "Mr. Saffron was not a friend of mine," Naylor found it necessary toexplain. "I had few opportunities of observing his way of life, even if Ihad felt any wish to do so."

  "I suppose Beaumaroy knew all about his affairs," she suggested.

  "As to that, I think you must ask Mr. Beaumaroy himself."

  "From what the lawyers say, the old man seems to have been getting rid ofhis money, somehow or to somebody," she grumbled, in a positive whisper.

  To Mr. Naylor's intense relief, Beaumaroy interrupted this conversation."Well, how do you like this little place, Mrs. Radbolt?" he askedcheerfully. "Not a bad little crib, is it? Don't you think so too, Dr.Arkroyd?" Throughout this gathering Beaumaroy was very punctilious withhis "Dr. Arkroyd." One would have thought that Mary and he were almoststrangers.

  "Yes, I like it," said Mary. "The Tower makes it rather unusual andpicturesque." This was not really her sincere opinion; she was playing upto Beaumaroy, convinced that he had opened some conversational maneuver.

  "Don't like it at all," answered Mrs. Radbolt. "We'll get rid of it assoon as we can, won't we, Radbolt?" She always addressed her husband as"Radbolt."

  "Don't be in a hurry, don't throw it away," Beaumaroy advised. "It's noteverybody's choice, of course, but there are quarters--yes, more than onequarter--in which you might get a very good offer for this place." Hiseye caught Mary's for a moment. "Indeed I wish I was in a position tomake you one myself. I should like to take it as it stands--lock, stockand barrel. But I've sunk all I had in another venture--hope it turnsout a satisfactory one! So I'm not in a position to do it. If Mrs.Radbolt wants to sell, what would you think of it, Dr. Arkroyd, as aspeculation?"

  Mary shook her head, smiling, glad to be able to smile with plausiblereason. "I'm not as fond of rash speculations as you are, Mr. Beaumaroy."

  "It may be worth more than it looks," he pursued. "Good neighborhood,healthy air, fruitful soil, very rich soil hereabouts."

  "My dear Beaumaroy, the land about here is abominable," Naylorexpostulated.

  "Perhaps generally, but some rich pockets--one may call pockets,"corrected Beaumaroy.

  "I'm not an agriculturist," remarked weaselly Mr. Radbolt, in hisoily tones.

  "And then there's a picturesque old yarn told about it--oh, whether it'strue or not, of course I don't know. It's about a certain CaptainDuggle--not the Army--the Mercantile Marine, Mrs. Radbolt. You know thestory Dr. Arkroyd? And you too, Mr. Naylor? You're the oldest inhabitantof Inkston present, sir. Suppose you tell it to Mr. and Mrs. Radbolt? I'msure it will make them attach a new value to this really very attractivecottage--with, as Dr. Arkroyd says, the additional feature of the Tower."

  "I know the story only as a friend of mine--Mr. Penrose--who takes greatinterest in local records and traditions, told it to me. If our hostdesires, I shall be happy to tell it to Mrs. Radbolt." Mr. Nayloraccompanied his words with a courtly little bow to that lady, andlaunched upon the legend of Captain Duggle.

  Mr. Radbolt was a religious man. At the end of the story he observedgravely, "The belief in diabolical personalities is not to be lightlydismissed, Mr. Beaumaroy."

  "I'm entirely of your opinion, Mr. Radbolt." This time Mary felt that hersmile was not so plausible.

  "There seems to have been nothing in the grave," mused Mrs. Radbolt.

  "Apparently not when Captain Duggle left it--if he was ever init--at all events not when he left the house, in whatever way and bywhatever agency."

  "As to the latter point, I myself incline to Penrose's theory," said Mr.Naylor. "_Delirium tremens_, you know!"

  Beaumaroy puffed at his cigar. "Still, I've often thought that, though itwas empty then, it would have made--supposing it really exists--anexcellent hiding-place for anybody who wanted such a thing. Say, for amiser, or a man who had his reasons for concealing what he was worth! Ionce suggested the idea to Mr. Saffron, and he was a good deal amused. Hepatted me on the shoulder and laughed heartily. He wasn't often so muchamused as that."

  A new look came into Mrs. Radbolt's green eyes. Up to now, distrust ofBeaumaroy had predominated. His frank bearing, his obvious candor andsimplicity, had weakened her suspicions. But his words suggestedsomething else; he might be a fool, not a knave; Mr. Saffron had beenamused, had laughed beyond his wont. That might have seemed the best wayof putting Beaumaroy off the scent. The green eyes were now alert, eager,immensely acquisitive.

  "The grave's in the Tower, if it's anywhere. Would you like to see theTower, Mrs. Radbolt?"

  "Yes, I should," she answered tartly. "Being part of our propertyas it is."

  Mary exchanged a glance with Mr. Naylor, as they followed the others intothe Tower. "What an abominable woman!" her glance said. Naylor smiled adespairing acquiescence.

  The strangers--chief mourners, heirs-at-law, owners now of the placewherein they stood--looked round the bare brick walls of the littlerotunda. Naylor examined it with interest too--the old story was a quaintone. Mary stood at the back of the group, smiling triumphantly. How hadhe disposed of--everything? She had not been wrong in her unlimitedconfidence in his ingenuity. She did not falter in her faith in his wordpledged to her.

  "Safe from burglars, that grave of the Captain's, if you kept itproperly concealed!" Beaumaroy pursued in a sort of humorous meditation."And in these days some people like to have their money in their ownhands. Confiscatory legislation possible, isn't it, Mr. Naylor? You knowabout those things better than I do. And then the taxes--shocking, Mr.Radbolt! By Jove, I knew a chap the other day who came in for whatsounded like a pretty little inheritance. But by the time he'd paid allthe duties and so on, most of the gilt was off the gingerbread! It'sthere--in front of the hearth--that the story says the grave is. Doesn'tit, Mr. Naylor?" A sudden thought seemed to strike him, "I say, Mrs.Radbolt, would you like us to have a look whether we can find anyindications of it?" His eyes traveled beyond the lady whom he addressed.They met Mary's. She knew their message; he was taking her into hisconfidence about his exp
eriment with the chief mourners.

  The stout angular woman had leapt to her conclusion. Much less money thanhad been expected--no signs of money having been spent and here, not thecunning knave whom she had expected, but a garrulous open fool, givingaway what was perhaps a golden secret! Mammon, the greed ofacquisitiveness, the voracious appetite for getting more, gleamed in hergreen eyes.

  "There? Do you say it's--it's supposed to be there?" she asked eagerly,with a shake in her voice.

  Her husband interposed in a suave and sanctimonious voice: "My dear, ifMr. Beaumaroy and the other gentleman won't mind my saying so, I've beenfeeling that these are rather light and frivolous topics for the day, andthe occasion which brings us here. The whole thing is probably anunfounded story, although there is a sound moral to it. Later on, just asa matter of curiosity, if you like, my dear. But to-day, CousinAloysius's day of burial, is it quite seemly?"

  The big woman looked at her smaller mate for just a moment, ascrutinizing look. Then she said with most unexpected meekness, "I waswrong. You always have the proper feelings, Radbolt."

  "The fault was mine, entirely mine," Beaumaroy hastily interposed. "Idragged in the old yarn, I led Mr. Naylor into telling it, I told youabout what I said to Mr. Saffron and how he took it. All my fault! Iacknowledge the justice of your rebuke. I apologize, Mr. Radbolt! And Ithink that we've exhausted the interest of the Tower." He looked at hiswatch. "Er, how do you stand for time? Shall Mrs. Wiles make us a cup oftea, or have you a train to catch?"

  "That's the woman in charge of the house, isn't it?" asked Mrs. Radbolt.

  "Comes in for the day. She doesn't sleep here." He smiled pleasantly onMrs. Radbolt. "To tell you the truth, I don't think that she wouldconsent to sleep here by herself. Silly! But--the old story, you know!"

  "Don't you sleep here?" the woman persisted, though her husband waslooking at her rather uneasily.

  "Up to now I have," said Beaumaroy. "But there's nothing to keep mehere now, and Mr. Naylor has kindly offered to put me up as long as Istay at Inkston."

  "Going to leave the place with nobody in it?"

  Beaumaroy's manner indicated surprise. "Oh, yes! There's nothing to temptthieves, is there? Just lock the door and put the key in my pocket!"

  The woman looked very surly, but flummoxed. Her husband, with his suaveoiliness, came to her rescue. "My wife is always nervous, perhapsfoolishly nervous, about fire, Mr. Beaumaroy. Well, with an old houselike this, there is always the risk."

  "Upon my soul, I hadn't thought of it! And I've packed up all my things,and your car's come and fetched them, Mr. Naylor. Still, of course Icould--"

  "Oh, we've no right, no claim, to trouble you, Mr. Beaumaroy. Only mywife is--"

  "Fire's an obsession with me, I'm afraid," said the stout woman, witha rumbling giggle. The sound of her mirth was intolerablydisagreeable to Mary.

  "I really think, my dear, that you'll feel easier if I stay myself,won't you? You can send me what I want to-morrow, and rejoin me whenwe arrange--because we shall have to settle what's to be done withthe place."

  "As you please, Mr. Radbolt." Beaumaroy's tone was, for the first time, alittle curt. It hinted some slight offense--as though he felt himselfcharged with carelessness, and considered Mrs. Radbolt's obsession merefussiness. "No doubt, if you stay, Mrs. Wiles will agree to stay too, anddo her best to make you comfortable."

  "I shall feel easier that way, Radbolt," Mrs. Radbolt admitted, withanother rumble of apologetic mirth.

  Beaumaroy motioned his guests back to the parlor. His manner retained itsshade of distance and offense. "Then it really only remains for me towish you good-bye--and all happiness in your new property. Anyinformation in my possession as to Mr. Saffron's affairs I shall, ofcourse, be happy to give you. Is the car coming for you, Mr. Naylor?"

  "I thought it would be pleasant to walk back; and I hope Doctor Marywill come with us and have some tea. I'll send you home afterwards,Doctor Mary."

  Farewells were exchanged, but now without even a show of cordiality.Naylor and Doctor Mary felt too much distaste for the chief mourners toattain more than a cold civility. Beaumaroy did not relax into hisearlier friendliness. His apparent dislike to her husband's plan ofstaying at the Cottage roused Mrs. Radbolt's suspicions again; was he arogue after all, but a very plausible, a very deep one? Only Mr.Radbolt's unctuousness--surely it would have smoothed the stormiestwaves--saved the social situation.

  "Intelligent people, I thought," Beaumaroy observed, as the threefriends pursued their way across the heath towards Old Place. "Didn'tyou, Mr. Naylor?"

  Old Naylor grunted. With a twinkle in his eyes, Beaumaroy tried DoctorMary. "What was your impression of them?"

  "Oh!" moaned Mary, with a deep and expressive note. "But how did you knowthey'd be like that?"

  "Letters, and the old man's description, he had a considerable command oflanguage, and very violent likes and dislikes. I made a picture ofthem--and it's turned out pretty accurate."

  "And those were the nearest kith and kin your poor old man had?" Naylorshook his head sadly. "The woman obviously cared not a straw aboutanything but handling his money--and couldn't even hide it! A gross andhorrible female, Beaumaroy!"

  "Were you really hurt about their insisting on staying?" asked Mary.

  "Oh, come, you're sharper than that, Doctor Mary! Still, I think I did itpretty well. I set the old girl thinking again, didn't I?" He broke intolaughter, and Mary joined in heartily. Old Naylor glanced from one to theother with an air of curiosity.

  "You two people look to me--somehow--as if you'd got a secretbetween you."

  "Perhaps we have! Mr. Naylor's a man of honor, Doctor Mary; a man whoappreciates a situation, a man you can trust." Beaumaroy seemed very gayand happy now, disembarrassed of a load, and buoyant alike in walk and inspirit. "What do you say to letting Mr. Naylor--just him--nobodyelse--into our secret?"

  Mary put her arms through old Mr. Naylor's. "I don't mind, if you don't.But nobody else!"

  "Then you shall tell him--the entire story--at your leisure. MeanwhileI'll begin at the wrong end. I told you I'd made a picture of the hatedcousins, of the heirs-at-law, those sorrowing chief mourners. Well,having made a picture of them that's proved true, I'll make a prophecyabout them, and I'll bet you it proves just as true."

  "Go on," said Mary. "Listen, Mr. Naylor," she added with a squeeze of theold man's arm.

  "You're like a couple of naughty children!" he said, with an affectionatelook and laugh.

  "Well, my prophecy is that they'll swear the poor dear old man's estateat under five thousand."

  "Well, why shouldn't--" old Naylor began; but he stopped as he sawMary's eyes meet Beaumaroy's in a rapture of quick and delightedunderstanding.

  "And then perhaps you'll own to being sorry, Doctor Mary!"

  "So that's what you were up to, was it?" said Mary.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE GOLD AND THE TREASURE

  Old Mr. Naylor called on Mary two or three days later--at an hour when,as he well knew, Cynthia was at his own house--in order to hear thestory. There were parts of it which she could not describe fully forlack of knowledge--the enterprise of Mike and Big Neddy, for example;but all that she knew she told frankly, and did not scruple to invokeher imagination to paint Beaumaroy's position, with its difficulties,demands, obligations--and temptations. He heard her with closeattention, evidently amused, and watching her animated face with a keenand watchful pleasure.

  "Surprising!" he said at the end, rubbing his hands together. "That's tosay, not in itself particularly surprising. Just a queer littlehappening; one would think nothing of it if one read it in the newspaper!Things are always so much more surprising when they happen down one'sown street, or within a few minutes' walk of one's garden wall--and whenone actually knows the people involved in them. Still I was alwaysinclined to agree with Dr. Irechester that there was something out of thecommon about old Saffron and our friend Beaumaroy."

  "Dr. Irechester never found ou
t what it was, though!" exclaimed Marytriumphantly.

  "No, he didn't; for reasons pretty clearly indicated in your narrative."He sat back in his chair, his elbows on the arms and his hands claspedbefore him. "If I may say so, the really curious thing is to find you inthe thick of it, Doctor Mary."

  "That wasn't my fault. I couldn't refuse to attend Mr. Saffron. Dr.Irechester himself said so."

  He paid no heed to her protest. "In the thick of it--and enjoying it sotremendously!"

  Mary looked thoughtful. "I didn't at first. I was angry, indignant,suspicious. I thought I was being made a fool of."

  "So you were--a fool and a tool, my dear!"

  "But that night--because it all really happened in just one night--thechief mourners, as Mr. Beaumaroy always calls them, were more than--"

  "Just a rather amusing epilogue--yes, that's all."

  "That night, it did get hold of me." She laughed a little nervously, alittle uneasily.

  "And now you tell it to me--I must say that your telling made it twicethe story that it really is--now you tell it as if it were the greatestthing that ever happened to you!"

  For a moment Mary fenced. "Well, nothing interesting ever has happened inmy humdrum life before." But old Naylor pursed up his lips in contempt ofher fencing. "It did seem to me a great--a great experience. Not theburglars and all that--though some of the things, like the water-butt,did amuse me very much--but our being apart from all the world, there byourselves, against the whole world in a way, Mr. Naylor."

  "The law on one side, the robbers on the other, and you two alonetogether!"

  "Yes, you understand. That was the way I felt it. But we weren'ttogether, not in every way. I mean, we were fighting between ourselvestoo, right up to the very end." She gave another low laugh. "I supposewe're fighting still; he means to face me with some Radbolt villainy, andmake me sorry for what he calls my legalism--with an epithet!"

  "That's his idea, and my own too, I confess. Those chief mourners willfind the money--and some other things that'll make 'em stare. But they'lllie low; they'll sit on the cash till the time comes when it's safe todispose of it; and they'll bilk the Inland Revenue out of the duties. Theremarkable thing is that Beaumaroy seems to want them to do it."

  "That's to make me sorry; that's to prove me wrong, Mr. Naylor."

  "It may make you sorry, it makes me sorry, for that matter; but itdoesn't prove you wrong. You were right. My boy Alec would have takenthe same line as you did. Now you needn't laugh at me, Mary. I own up atonce; that's my highest praise."

  "I know it is; and it implies a contrast?"

  Old Naylor unclasped his hands and spread them in a deprecatory gesture."It must do that," he acknowledged.

  Mary gave a rebellious little toss of her head. "I don't care if it does,Mr. Naylor! Mr. Beaumaroy is my friend now."

  "And mine. Moreover I have such confidence in his honor and fidelity thatI have offered him a rather important and confidential position in mybusiness--to represent us at one of the foreign ports where we haveconsiderable interests." He smiled. "It's the sort of place where he willperhaps find himself less trammelled by--er--legalism, and with moreopportunities for his undoubted gift of initiative."

  "Will he accept your offer? Will he go?" she asked rather excitedly.

  "Without doubt, I think. It's really quite a good offer. And whatprospects has he now, or here?"

  Mary stretched her hands towards the fire and gazed into it in silence.

  "I think you'll have an offer soon too, and a good one, Doctor Mary.Irechester was over at our place yesterday. He's still of opinion thatthere was something queer at Tower Cottage. Indeed he thinks that Mr.Saffron was queer himself, in his head, and that a clever doctor wouldhave found it out."

  "That he himself would, if he'd gone on attending--"

  "Precisely. But he's not surprised that you didn't; you lacked theexperience. Still he thinks none the worse of you for that, and he toldme that he has made up his mind to offer you partnership. Irechester's abit stiff, but a very straight fellow. You could rely on being fairlytreated, and it's a good practice. Besides he's well off, and quitelikely to retire as soon as he sees you fairly in the saddle."

  "It's a great compliment." Here Mary's voice sounded quitestraightforward and sincere. An odd little note of contempt crept into itas she added, "And it sounds--ideal!"

  "Yes, it does," old Naylor agreed, with a private smile all to himself,whilst Mary still gazed into the fire. "Quite ideal. You're a lucky youngwoman, Mary." He rose to take his leave. "So, with our young folk happilymarried, and you installed, and friend Beaumaroy suited to hisliking--why, upon my word, we may ring the curtain down on a happyending--of Act I, at all events!"

  She seemed to pay no heed to his words. He stood for a moment, admiringher; not as a beauty, but a healthy comely young woman, stout-hearted,and with humanity and a sense of fun in her. And, as he looked, his truefeeling about the situation suddenly burst through all restraint andleapt from his lips. "Though, for my part, under the circumstances, if Iwere you, I'd see old Irechester damned before I accepted thepartnership!"

  She turned to him--startled, yet suddenly smiling. He took her hand andraised it to his lips.

  "Hush! Not another word! Good-bye, my dear Mary!"

  The next day, as Mary, her morning round finished, sat at lunch withCynthia, listening, or not listening, to her friend's excusably,eager chatter about her approaching wedding, a note was deliveredinto her hands:

  The C.M.'s are in a hurry! She's back! The window is boarded up again!Come and see! About 4 o'clock this afternoon. B.

  Mary kept the appointment. She found Beaumaroy strolling up and down onthe road in front of the cottage. The Tower window was boarded up again,but with new strong planks, in a much more solid and workmanlike fashion.If he were to try again, Mike would not find it so easy to negotiate,without making a dangerous noise over the job.

  "Such impatience--such undisguised rapacity--is indecent and revolting,"Beaumaroy remarked. He seemed to be in the highest spirits. "I wonder ifthey've opened it yet!"

  "They'll see you prowling about outside, won't they?"

  "I hope so. Indeed I've no doubt of it. Mrs. Greeneyes is probablypeering through the parlor window at this minute, and cursing me. I likeit! To those people I represent law and order. If they can rise to theconception of such a thing at all, I probably embody conscience. When youcome to think of it, it's a pleasant turn of events that I should come torepresent law and order and conscience to anybody, even to the Radbolts."

  "It is rather a change," she agreed. "But let's walk on. I don't reallymuch want to think of them."

  "That's because you feel that you're losing the bet. I can't stop themgetting the money in the end, that's your doing! I can't stop themcheating the Revenue, which is what they certainly mean to do, withoutexposing myself to more inconvenience than I am disposed to undergo inthe cause of the Revenue. Whereas if I had left the bag in thewater-butt--all your doing! Aren't you a little sorry?"

  "Of course there is an aspect of the case--" she admitted smiling.

  "That's enough for me! You've lost the bet. Let's see--what were thestakes, Mary?"

  "Come, let's walk on." She put her arm through his. "What about thisberth that Mr. Naylor's offering you? At Bogota, isn't it?"

  He looked puzzled for a moment; then his mind worked quickly back toCynthia's almost forgotten tragedy. He laughed in enjoyment of herthrust. "My place isn't Bogota--though I fancy that it's rather in thesame moral latitude. You're confusing me with Captain Cranster!"

  "So I was--for a moment," said Doctor Mary demurely. "But what about theappointment, anyhow?"

  "What about your partnership with Dr. Irechester, if you come to that?"

  Mary pressed his arm gently, and they walked on in silence for a littlewhile. They were clear of the neighborhood of Tower Cottage now, butstill a considerable distance from Old Place; very much alone together onthe heath, as they had seemed to be that nigh
t--that night of nights--atthe cottage.

  "I haven't so much as received the offer yet; only Mr. Naylor hasmentioned it to me."

  "Still, you'd like to be ready with your answer when the offer is made,wouldn't you?" He drew suddenly away from her, and stood still on theroad, opposite to her. His face lost its playfulness; as it set intogravity, the lines upon it deepened, and his eyes looked rather sad."This is wrong of me, perhaps, but I can't help it. I'm not going to talkto you about myself. Confessions and apologies and excuses, and so on,aren't in my line. I should probably tell lies if I attempted anything ofthe sort. You must take me or leave me on your own judgment, on your ownfeelings about me, as you've seen and known me--not long, but prettyintimately, Mary." He suddenly reached his hand into his pocket andpulled out the combination knife-and-fork. "That's all I've brought awayof his from Tower Cottage. And I brought it away as much for your sake asfor his. It was during our encounter over this instrument that I firstthought of you as a woman, Mary. And, by Jove, I believe you knew it!"

  "Yes, I believe I did," she answered, her eyes set very steadily on his.

  He slipped the thing back into his pocket. "And now I love you, and Iwant you, Mary."

  She fell into a sudden agitation. "Oh, but this doesn't seem for me! I'dput all that behind me! I--" She could scarcely find words. "I, I'm justDoctor Mary!"

  "Lots of people to practice on--bodies and souls too, in the morallatitude I'm going to!"

  Her body seemed to shiver a little, as though before a plunge into deepwater. "I'm very safe here," she whispered.

  "Yes, you're safe here," he acknowledged gravely, and stood silent,waiting for her choice.

  "What a decision to have to make!" she cried suddenly. "It's all my lifein a moment! Because I don't want you to go away from me!" She drew nearto him, and put her hands on his shoulders. "I'm not a child, likeCynthia. I can't dream dreams and make idols any more. I think I see youas you are, and I don't know whether your love is a good thing." Shepaused, searching his eyes with hers very earnestly. Then she went on,"But if it isn't, I think there's no good thing left for me at all."

  "Mary, isn't that your answer to me?" "Yes." Her arms fell from hisshoulders, and she stood opposite to him, in silence again for a moment.Then her troubled face cleared to a calm serenity. "And now I set doubtsand fears behind me. I come to you in faith, and loyalty, and love. I'mnot a missionary to you, or a reformer, God forbid! I'm just the womanwho loves you, Hector."

  "I should have mocked at the missionary, and tricked the reformer." Hebared his head before her. "But by the woman who loves me and whom Ilove, I will deal faithfully." He bent and kissed her forehead.

  "And now, let's walk on. No, not to old Place--back home, pastTower Cottage."

  She put her arm through his again, and they set out through the soft duskthat had begun to hover about them. So they came to the cottage, andhere, for a while, instinctively stayed their steps. A light shone in theparlor window; the Tower was dark and still. Mary turned her face toBeaumaroy's with a sudden smile of scornful gladness.

  "Aye, aye, you're right!" His smile answered hers. "Poor devils! I'msorry; for them, upon my soul I am!"

  "That really is just like you!" she exclaimed in mirthful exasperation."Sorry for the Radbolts now, are you?"

  "Well, after all, they've only got the gold. We've got thetreasure, Mary!"

  THE END.