m
must be allowed the credit generally of not placing their people in an
uncomfortable position. And since the ship had so fortunately been
saved, there was no more use in raking up the matter any further. Every
one knew the story about Marianne, so now the best thing for both
parties was to cry quits, and start fair for the future. It was all very
well for the police magistrate to sit there looking so serious, bullying
and questioning as if he meant to get at the point; but this was really
only for the sake of appearances. One thing was perfectly plain--that it
must all end as the grand folks chose it should; and when Garman and
Worse were determined that nothing should come out, the magistrate might
do whatever he liked, but he would certainly never discover anything.

This kind of thing might be unpleasant enough sometimes, but in this
particular instance it was most fortunate, and the lesson to be learnt
from it all was--if, indeed, there was any one who did not know it
already--that it is as well to be on good terms with grand folks, even
if it does cost something.

But no one would have anything to do with Martin. He had escaped
scot-free from those common enemies of mankind, the law and the police,
but he was a marked man, even among his own friends, and they did not
scruple to let him know plainly, that the sooner he packed himself off
out of the country the better.

CHAPTER XX.

There was no hope of the young Consul's recovery. For a fortnight he had
been wavering to and fro. Sometimes it appeared as if the right side
would prevail, but then the left got the upper hand again; and each time
the paralysis seemed to get a firmer hold.

Miss Cordsen heard the doctor say to Richard, "He may perhaps linger for
a few hours, but he cannot live through the night." The old lady
remained for a few minutes in the sick-room, and then went upstairs. Her
own apartment was a picture of old-fashioned neatness. Carpets and
chairs carefully covered, boxes locked, nothing lying about; everything
trim, well cared for, and shielded from prying eyes.

There arose an odour of clean linen and lavender she opened the press,
and in a little secret drawer behind a bundle of well-starched
nightcaps, there lay carefully wrapped up, a miniature portrait in a
black frame. It represented a young man dressed in a green frock-coat,
with a broad velvet collar. The hair was slightly red, and brushed back
in the fashion of the time,