Her manner seemed to leave him quite unmoved.

'Now, my dear girl, don't look at me like that; it isn't nice of you.

I'm here as a friend--a friend, you understand--and something more than a friend.'

'You are no friend of mine; no, you never can be. I tell you again to go at once, or you will be sorry. I have warned you.'

'That's all right; you'll change your tone when you hear what I have to say. I've come here to bring sunshine into your life, to ask for your forgiveness, to undo the past. Be sensible; there's a good girl.'

'Sensible? Oh, yes, I will be sensible. There's someone else here.'

'Yes, that's c.o.x; he's a friend of mine. He's come here to see fair-play and witness my repentance. Come in, c.o.x.' Mr Thomas c.o.x entered, looking, if the thing were possible, less like a Thomas c.o.x than ever. 'c.o.x, let me present you to Miss Casata, the only woman I ever loved. There have been times when I have been forced to dissemble my love. Hang it, c.o.x! you know how I've been pressed. When a man's in such a hole as I've been in, he crushes down the love which he feels for a woman; he has to, if there's any manhood in him. He doesn't want to drag her down into the ditch in which he lies. But, c.o.x, you know how I have loved her all the time.'

Mr Burton turned away his head--whether to hide a tear or a smile was uncertain. He spoke with a degree of volubility which, under the circ.u.mstances, was remarkable. As Miss Casata appeared to think, her tone remained inflexible.

'There still is someone else.'

'Ah, that's the Flyman; he's nothing and n.o.body; he doesn't count. Let him have a chair, and he can wait in the hall, Lou, till you and I come to an understanding.'

Mr Burton's suggestion was carried out. A chair was taken into the little hall, on which the Flyman placed himself. How long he remained on it, when their backs were turned, was another matter. The outer door was closed, as also, Miss Casata having entered, was the door into the drawing-room. But that was of no consequence; the Flyman's ears were keen.

There was a curious glitter in the lady's eyes when she confronted her quondam lover. Now and then she touched her lips with the tip of her tongue, as if they were dry. Her hands continually opened and shut, apparently of their own volition. Occasionally one of them found its way into her pocket, feeling if her treasures still were there. She spoke as if her throat were sore.

'Well, what is it that you want? what new lie have you to tell?'

'I want to marry you; and, Lou, that's no lie.'

She was silent. One could see her bosom moving up and down. Then, becoming conscious of the two men's scrutiny, she drew herself up straighter, as if resolute to keep herself in hand.

'You insolent!'

'Insolent! Now, Lou, that's not nice of you. A man's not insolent who wants to marry the woman whom he loves, and who loves him.'

'I love you? I?' She tapped her chest with her forefinger. 'I love you so much that I would like to tear you to pieces! That is the sort of love I have for you. You--thing!'

'Lou, you're letting your temper get the better of you. I know I treated you badly.'

'Badly!'

She laughed--a mirthless little laugh.

'I know you've a right to feel annoyed with me--'

'Annoyed with you? Oh, no, not that!'

'But I was forced to do what I did; I couldn't help myself.'

'No doubt!'

'But now it's different altogether. I see things in a new light. I know what a mistake I've made. I've found out that I love you even more than I thought I did, and I've come to ask you to give me another chance--to forgive me. You're a woman, Lou, the best of women, and you've a forgiving heart; I know you have. Let me be your husband.

I'll treat you better in the future; really, now!'

'What does all this mean?'

'It means what I say. Doesn't your own heart tell you so?'

'Oh, yes, it tells me. It tells me all sorts of things. It is a fool and a liar. It is of you I ask what does it all mean? It is you I want to tell me. Never mind what my heart says; we will leave my heart alone. I think we'd better.'

'Well, look here, I'll be candid. You're clear-sighted, whatever else you are, and level-headed; a cleverer woman I never met. I've told you so scores of times. With a woman of your type, candour's the best policy, as you say. So here's the matter in a nutsh.e.l.l. I'm in a hole; you're in a hole. You help me out of the hole I'm in; I'll help you out of the hole you're in. That's what I've come to say to you to-night. You appreciate frankness; there you have it.'

'What is the hole you are in?'

'My dear Lou, you know quite well. I've never kept it secret from you; I've always made you my confidant. What I want is my uncle's ruby. You tell me where it is, and help me to lay my hand upon it, and I'll marry you in the morning. And there's the proof that I mean what I say.'

He handed her an official-looking doc.u.ment, which purported to be an announcement of the fact that notice had been given to a certain registrar requiring him to perform the ceremony of marriage, by special licence, between Horace Burton and Louise Casata. The lady, however, scarcely glanced at it. She kept her eyes fixed on the gentleman.

'Your uncle's ruby!'

'That's it. As you know, if I can get it in my possession, it means fortune; if I can't, it may mean misfortune of a bad type. As I'm not taking any chances, if you'll help me to lay my hand on it, I'll marry you in the morning.'

'What a liar you are!'

'My dear Lou, all men are liars; somebody else said it before you. But where's the lie in this particular case? You've the proof in your hand that I mean business. c.o.x shall come with us and see it done. Won't you, c.o.x?'

Mr Thomas c.o.x bowed.

'Pleased to do anything to oblige a lady.'

'There you are! If you like, you needn't lose sight of me until we're married.'

'You say you want your uncle's ruby?'

'Of course, you know I do.'

'I know that you have it already.'

'I wish I knew as much. If I had it, I shouldn't be here to-night.

There's another piece of candour.'

'I saw him take it.'

'Him? Who?'

'The man outside whom you call the Flyman. I saw him from a window take it last night from Mr Holland.'

Mr Burton turned to Mr c.o.x.

'There you are! There's one witness. How many more might there have been? The Flyman's a fool to transact a delicate piece of business of that description in a public thoroughfare!' He returned to Miss Casata. 'My dear Lou, you saw him try to take it, unfortunately without success.'

'He took everything Mr Holland had.'