dered and grew sick. And now, having taken
the alarm, his thoughts became active in a new direction, and
penetrated beneath surfaces which hitherto had blinded his eyes by
their golden lustre. Facts and statements which before had appeared
favourable and coherent now presented irreconcilable discrepancies,
and he wondered at the mental blindness which had prevented his
seeing things in their present aspects.

It was not possible for a man of Mr. Markland's peculiar temperament
and business experience to sit down idly, and, with folded hands,
await the issue of this great venture. Now that his fears were
aroused, he could not stop short of a thorough examination of
affairs, and that, too, at the chief point of operations, which lay
thousands of miles distant.

Letters from Mr. Lyon awaited his return from New York. They said
little of matters about which he now most desired specific
information, while they seemed to communicate a great many important
facts in regard to the splendid enterprise in which they were
engaged. Altogether, they left no satisfactory impression on his
mind. One of them, bearing a later date than the rest, disturbed him
deeply. It was the first, for some months, in which allusion was
made to his daughter. The closing paragraph of this letter ran
thus:--

"I have not found time, amid this pressure of business, to write a
word to your daughter for some weeks. Say to her that I ever bear
her in respectful remembrance, and shall refer to the days spent at
Woodbine Lodge as among the brightest of my life."

There had been no formal application for the hand of his daughter up
to this time; yet had it not crossed the thought of Markland that
any other result would follow; for the relation into which Lyon had
voluntarily brought himself left no room for honourable retreat. His
letters to Fanny more than bound him to a pledge of his hand. They
were only such as one bearing the tenderest affection might write.

Many weeks had elapsed since Fanny received a letter, and she was
beginning to droop under the long suspense. None came for her now,
and here was the cold, brief reference to one whose heart was
throbbing toward him, full of love.

Markland was stung by this evasive reference to his daughter, for
its meaning he clearly understood. Not that he had set his heart on
an alliance of Fanny with this man, but, having come to look upon
such an event as almost certain, and regarding all obstacles in th