signan thought it inconsiderate; and after a while, remarking
gently that he was not particularly fond of sound, he proposed they
should smoke the pipe of peace on the lawn.

They did so; but after a while, finding that Falcon was not smoking, he
said, "Don't let me detain you. Rosa is alone."

Falcon took the hint, and went to the drawing-room. Rosa met him on the
stairs, with a scarf over her shoulders. "I must speak to papa," said
she. "Where is he?"

"He is on the lawn, dear Rosa," said Falcon, in his most dulcet tones.
He was sure of his ally, and very glad to use him as a buffer to receive
the first shock.

So he went into the drawing-room, where all the lights were burning, and
quietly took up a book. But he did not read a line; he was too occupied
in trying to read his own future.

The mean villain, who is incapable of remorse, is, of all men, most
capable of fear. His villany had, to all appearance, reached the goal;
for he felt sure that all Rosa's struggles would, sooner or later,
succumb to her sense of gratitude and his strong will and patient
temper. But when the victory was won, what a life! He must fly with
her to some foreign country, pursued from pillar to post by an enraged
husband, and by the offended law. And if he escaped the vindictive foe
a year or two, how could he escape that other enemy he knew, and
dreaded--poverty? He foresaw he should come to hate the woman he was
about to wrong, and she would instantly revenge herself, by making him
an exile and, soon or late, a prisoner, or a pauper.

While these misgivings battled with his base but ardent passion, strange
things were going on out of doors--but they will be best related in
another sequence of events, to which indeed they fairly belong.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Staines and Mrs. Falcon landed at Plymouth, and went up to town by the
same train. They parted in London, Staines to go down to Gravesend, Mrs.
Falcon to visit her husband's old haunts, and see if she could find him.

She did not find him; but she heard of him, and learned that he always
went down to Gravesend from Saturday till Monday.

Notwithstanding all she had said to Staines, the actual information
startled her, and gave her a turn. She was obliged to sit down, for her
knees seemed to give way. It was but a momentary weakness. She was now
a wife and a mother, and had her rights. She said to herself, "My rogue
has turned that poor woman's head long before this, no dou