ope that matters may be set right to the satisfaction of
all parties. Good-afternoon!"

He bowed with elaborate courtesy, and turned back to the cottage.

"Who is that?" Isabel asked.

"Lady Lydiard's nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir," Moody answered, with
a sudden sternness of tone, and a sudden coldness of manner, which
surprised Isabel.

"You don't like him?" she said.

As she spoke, Fe lix stopped to give audience to one of the grooms, who
had apparently been sent with a message to him. He turned so that
his face was once more visible to Isabel. Moody pressed her hand
significantly as it rested on his arm.

"Look well at that man," he whispered. "It's time to warn you. Mr. Felix
Sweetsir is the worst enemy you have!"

Isabel heard him in speechless astonishment. He went on in tones that
trembled with suppressed emotion.

"You doubt if Sharon knows the thief. You doubt if I know the thief.
Isabel! as certainly as the heaven is above us, there stands the wretch
who stole the bank-note!"

She drew her hand out of his arm with a cry of terror. She looked at him
as if she doubted whether he was in his right mind.

He took her hand, and waited a moment trying to compose himself.

"Listen to me," he said. "At the first consultation I had with Sharon he
gave this advice to Mr. Troy and to me. He said, 'Suspect the very last
person on whom suspicion could possibly fall.' Those words, taken with
the questions he had asked before he pronounced his opinion, struck
through me as if he had struck me with a knife. I instantly suspected
Lady Lydiard's nephew. Wait! From that time to this I have said nothing
of my suspicion to any living soul. I knew in my own heart that it
took its rise in the inveterate dislike that I have always felt for Mr.
Sweetsir, and I distrusted it accordingly. But I went back to Sharon,
for all that, and put the case into his hands. His investigations
informed me that Mr. Sweetsir owed 'debts of honor' (as gentlemen call
them), incurred through lost bets, to a large number of persons, and
among them a bet of five hundred pounds lost to Mr. Hardyman. Further
inquiries showed that Mr. Hardyman had taken the lead in declaring that
he would post Mr. Sweetsir as a defaulter, and have him turned out of
his clubs, and turned out of the betting-ring. Ruin stared him in the
face if he failed to pay his debt to Mr. Hardyman on the last day left
to him--the day after the note was lost. On that very morning, La