He laughed.

"A large sum, and this means more than money. There ought to be something in the way of an honour--"

Falconer nodded.

"_If_ the scheme is successful, your father will be a peer of the realm, Mr. Stafford," he said drily, with an emphasis on the "if."

"_If!_" echoed Sir Stephen, laughing and nodding. Stafford could see by the brilliance of his eyes, the flush on his face, that he was excited and was struggling with excitement. "If!"

Falconer nodded at the despatch-case, and, with another bantering laugh, Sir Stephen opened it and took out a large envelope. He held this for a moment poised between finger and thumb, then he tore it open and took out a sheet of paper, and turned his flashing eyes from the two men to the doc.u.ment.

He rose for a moment with the smile still on his face; then they saw it fade, saw the flush slowly disappear, and in its place a dull grey steal over the face.

Stafford, startled, went round to him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"What is the matter, sir?" he asked. "Bad news?"

Sir Stephen looked at him as if he did not see him, then turned his eyes upon Falconer, who stood regarding him with a fixed, sardonic gaze.

"Hast thou found me, oh, mine enemy?" came at last from Sir Stephen's white lips.

Stafford looked from one to the other.

"What--what on earth is the matter? What do you mean?" he said.

Sir Stephen raised his hand and pointed to Ralph Falconer.

"This--this man!" he gasped; then he shook his head impatiently, as if he were fighting against his weakness. "This man Falconer has betrayed me!"

Stafford drew himself up, as he stood by his father's side, and eyed Falconer sternly.

"Will you explain, Mr. Falconer?" he said.

"Certainly," said Falconer, with a grim calmness. "Your father uses unwarrantably strong language, Mr. Orme, for an action of mine which is quite a common one amongst business men."

"No!" gasped Sir Stephen, as he sank back into the chair. "Treachery is not common--"

"Treachery is the wrong word," said Falconer, as coldly as before.

"Better let me explain to Mr. Stafford. I can do so in a few words, Mr.

Orme. The fact is, your father and I have been, quite unknown, to each other, engaged in the same scheme. It is nothing more nor less than the acquisition of certain land and rights which carry with them the privilege of constructing a railway in the most promising part of South Africa--"

Sir Stephen leant forward, his head on his hands, his eyes fixed on the heavy, stolid face of the speaker, the face which the keen, hawk-like eyes flashed under the lowered lids with a gleam of power and triumph.

--"Your father had reason to hope that he would acquire those lands and rights; he did not know that I had been waiting for some years past to obtain them. If knowledge is power and money, ignorance is impotence and ruin. My knowledge against your father's ignorance has given me the victory. Last night I gained my point: the news to that effect is no doubt contained in that doc.u.ment. It was a question of price--it always is. I knew your father's bid, and--I went a few thousands higher and got the prize. That's the story in a nutsh.e.l.l. Of course there are a number of complications and details, but I spare you them; in fact, I don't suppose you understand them. It is a mere matter of business"

"No, of revenge!" said Sir Stephen's hollow voice. "Stafford, years ago I did this man a wrong. I--I have repented; I would have made atonement, reparation; but he put the offer aside. Here, in this house, he professed to have forgiven and forgotten--professed friendship. It was a piece of treachery and deceit; under that specious mask, behind that screen, he has worked my ruin!"

"Ruin!" said Stafford, in a low voice. "Surely you exaggerate, father!

You mean that you will lose a lot of money--Oh, I can understand that, of course. But not ruin!"

"Yes, _ruin!_" said Sir Stephen, hoa.r.s.ely. "If you doubt it, look at him!"

Falconer was standing with a sardonic smile in his eyes.

Stafford started.

"Is this true, Mr. Falconer?"

Falconer was silent for a moment, then he said, slowly, grimly:

"In a sense--yes. Your father's fate lies in my hands."

"In your hands!" echoed Stafford, with amazement.

Sir Stephen groaned and rose, supporting himself by the arm of the chair.

"It is true, Stafford. He--he has planned it with the skill of a general, a Napoleon! I see it all now, it is all plain to me. You held my shares and securities, of course, Falconer?"

Falconer nodded.

"Of course!" he said, drily.

"And you have run them down to meet this scheme of yours."

"Yes, of course!" said Falconer, again. "My dear Steve--Sir Stephen--pardon!--your fate, as I have said, is in my hands. It is simply a matter of t.i.t-for-tat. You had your turn some years ago out there"--he waved his hand. "It is my turn now. You can't complain. Do you admit the justice of the thing?"

Sir Stephen sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands for a moment, then he looked up at Stafford.

"He's right. It was his turn. He has taken it--and with it every penny I possess. It means ruin--complete ruin! Worse even than the loss of every penny; for--for--I--G.o.d help me!--can't afford to go into court and have the past raked up--And he knows it--he knows it, Stafford!"

The sight of the old man's anguish almost drove Stafford mad.

"Have you no mercy, sir?" he said to Falconer. "Grant that my father had injured you--isn't this rather too awful a revenge to exact?

I--I--I--don't understand all that I have heard; but--but"--an oath broke from his hot lips--"will nothing less than the ruin of my father satisfy you?"

Falconer looked from one to the other and moistened his lips, while his hands gripped each other behind his back.

"I think you have misunderstood me," he said, in a dry, harsh voice; "I have no intention of ruining your father or of depriving him of his good name. Mind! if I did I should only be taking my pound of flesh: and I may tell you that before I entered this house this afternoon I had resolved to have it. But I heard something that induced me to change my mind."

Sir Stephen leant forward, his eyes fixed eagerly on the speaker, and Stafford in his anxiety held his breath and pressed his father's shoulder encouragingly.

"You heard something, sir?" Stafford asked, as calmly as he could.

Mr. Falconer was silent for a moment, then he said:

"Yes. I heard that you were desirous of marrying my daughter, Maude, Mr. Orme; and I need not say that a man does not ruin his son-in-law!"

There was an intense silence. Stafford stood as if he were turned to stone, as if he were trying to persuade himself that he had misunderstood the meaning of Falconer's words. Marry Maude Falconer--he! Was he dreaming, or was this man, who stood regarding him with cold, glittering eyes, mad!