nocked my
appetite, I can assure you. What do you make of it?"

"It's a mystery," replied Stephen Foster, "and I am all in the dark
about it. Devilish unfortunate, I call it."

"Right you are! And it's more than that. You have seen the _Globe_?"

"Yes; here it is."

"Did you know that the picture was insured?"

"I judged that it was, but the fact was quite unimportant."

"The Mutual people won't regard it in that light."

"Hardly. Will you have a drink, my dear fellow? You are looking seedy."

A stiff brandy-and-soda pulled Victor Nevill together, and for nearly an
hour the two men spoke in low and serious tones, occasionally referring
to the heap of papers.

"Not the slightest clew," said Stephen Foster. "It is absurd to suspect
Raper of collusion with the thieves--his only fault was carelessness.
Leave the affair to the police. I shan't give it another thought."

"That's easier said than done," Nevill replied. He rose and put on his
hat. "I must be off now. Oh, about the other matter--have you said
anything further to your daughter?"

"Not a word."

"She still defies you?"

"She refuses to give the fellow up." Stephen Foster sighed. "The girl
has lots of spirit."

"You won't let her have her own way?"

"Not if I can prevent it."

"Prevent it?" echoed Nevill, sneeringly. "What measures will you take?"

"I shall see the artist."

"Much good that will do," said Nevill. "Better begin by enforcing your
authority over your daughter."

"I can't be harsh with her," Stephen Foster answered. "I am more
inclined to pity than anger."

Under the circumstances, now that he knew how far matters had gone
with the woman he loved and his rival, Victor Nevill was curiously
unconcerned and unmoved, at least outwardly. It is true that he did not
despair of success, strong as were the odds against him. There was a
hard and evil expression on his face, which melted at times into a
cunning smile of satisfaction, as he walked down Wardour street.

"I am on the right scent, and the game will soon be in my hands," he
reflected. "In another week I ought to be able to put an effectual spoke
in Jack Vernon's wheel. It will be a blow for Madge, but she will forget
him presently, and then I will commence to play my cards. I won't
fail--I'm determined to make her my wife. Shall I let Foster into the
scheme? I think not. Better let things take their course, and keep him
in ignorance of the fact that I had a hand in the revel