"Of course he will."

"Won't that be jolly? I wish it was all done. Then, directly it's done, and when we get to New York, we'll telegraph and write to papa, and we'll be ever so penitent and good; won't we? Of course he'll make the best of it."

"But he's so savage; isn't he?"

"When there's anything to get;--or just at the moment. But I don't think he minds afterwards. He's always for making the best of everything;--misfortunes and all. Things go wrong so often that if he was to go on thinking of them always they'd be too many for anybody.

It'll be all right in a month's time. I wonder how Lord Nidderdale will look when he hears that we've gone off. I should so like to see him. He never can say that I've behaved bad to him. We were engaged, but it was he broke it. Do you know, Felix, that though we were engaged to be married, and everybody knew it, he never once kissed me!" Felix at this moment almost wished that he had never done so. As to what the other man had done, he cared nothing at all.

Then they parted with the understanding that they were not to see each other again till they met on board the boat. All arrangements were made. But Felix was determined that he would not stir in the matter unless Didon brought him the full sum of 250; and he almost thought, and indeed hoped, that she would not. Either she would be suspected at the bank and apprehended, or she would run off with the money on her own account when she got it;--or the cheque would have been missed and the payment stopped. Some accident would occur, and then he would be able to recede from his undertaking. He would do nothing till after Monday afternoon.

Should he tell his mother that he was going? His mother had clearly recommended him to run away with the girl, and must therefore approve of the measure. His mother would understand how great would be the expense of such a trip, and might perhaps add something to his stock of money. He determined that he could tell his mother;--that is, if Didon should bring him full change for the cheque.

He walked into the Beargarden exactly at four o'clock on the Monday, and there he found Didon standing in the hall. His heart sank within him as he saw her. Now must he certainly go to New York. She made him a little curtsey, and without a word handed him an envelope, soft and fat with rich enclosures. He bade her wait a moment, and going into a little waiting-room counted the notes. The money was all there;--the full sum of 250. He must certainly go to New York. "C'est tout en regle?" said Didon in a whisper as he returned to the hall. Sir Felix nodded his head, and Didon took her departure.

Yes; he must go now. He had Melmotte's money in his pocket, and was therefore bound to run away with Melmotte's daughter. It was a great trouble to him as he reflected that Melmotte had more of his money than he had of Melmotte's. And now how should he dispose of his time before he went? Gambling was too dangerous. Even he felt that. Where would he be were he to lose his ready money? He would dine that night at the club, and in the evening go up to his mother. On the Tuesday he would take his place for New York in the City, and would spend the evening with Ruby at the Music Hall. On the Wednesday, he would start for Liverpool,--according to his instructions. He felt annoyed that he had been so fully instructed. But should the affair turn out well n.o.body would know that. All the fellows would give him credit for the audacity with which he had carried off the heiress to America.

At ten o'clock he found his mother and Hetta in Welbeck Street--"What; Felix?" exclaimed Lady Carbury.

"You're surprised; are you not?" Then he threw himself into a chair.

"Mother," he said, "would you mind coming into the other room?" Lady Carbury of course went with him. "I've got something to tell you," he said.

"Good news?" she asked, clasping her hands together. From his manner she thought that it was good news. Money had in some way come into his hands,--or at any rate a prospect of money.

"That's as may be," he said, and then he paused.

"Don't keep me in suspense, Felix."

"The long and the short of it is that I'm going to take Marie off."

"Oh, Felix."

"You said you thought it was the right thing to do;--and therefore I'm going to do it. The worst of it is that one wants such a lot of money for this kind of thing."

"But when?"

"Immediately. I wouldn't tell you till I had arranged everything.

I've had it in my mind for the last fortnight."

"And how is it to be? Oh, Felix, I hope it may succeed."

"It was your own idea, you know. We're going to;--where do you think?"

"How can I think?--Boulogne."

"You say that just because Goldsheiner went there. That wouldn't have done at all for us. We're going to--New York."

"To New York! But when will you be married?"

"There will be a clergyman on board. It's all fixed. I wouldn't go without telling you."

"Oh; I wish you hadn't told me."

"Come now;--that's kind. You don't mean to say it wasn't you that put me up to it. I've got to get my things ready."

"Of course, if you tell me that you are going on a journey, I will have your clothes got ready for you. When do you start?"

"Wednesday afternoon."

"For New York! We must get some things ready-made. Oh, Felix, how will it be if he does not forgive her?" He attempted to laugh. "When I spoke of such a thing as possible he had not sworn then that he would never give her a shilling."

"They always say that."

"You are going to risk it?"

"I am going to take your advice." This was dreadful to the poor mother. "There is money settled on her."

"Settled on whom?"

"On Marie;--money which he can't get back again."

"How much?"

"She doesn't know,--but a great deal; enough for them all to live upon if things went amiss with them."

"But that's only a form, Felix. That money can't be her own, to give to her husband."

"Melmotte will find that it is, unless he comes to terms. That's the pull we've got over him. Marie knows what she's about. She's a great deal sharper than any one would take her to be. What can you do for me about money, mother?"

"I have none, Felix."

"I thought you'd be sure to help me, as you wanted me so much to do it."

"That's not true, Felix. I didn't want you to do it. Oh, I am so sorry that that word ever pa.s.sed my mouth! I have no money. There isn't 20 at the bank altogether."

"They would let you overdraw for 50 or 60."

"I will not do it. I will not starve myself and Hetta. You had ever so much money only lately. I will get some things for you, and pay for them as I can if you cannot pay for them after your marriage;--but I have not money to give you."

"That's a blue look-out," said he, turning himself in his chair "just when 60 or 70 might make a fellow for life! You could borrow it from your friend Broune."

"I will do no such thing, Felix. 50 or 60 would make very little difference in the expense of such a trip as this. I suppose you have some money?"

"Some;--yes, some. But I'm so short that any little thing would help me." Before the evening was over she absolutely did give him a cheque for 30 although she had spoken the truth in saying that she had not so much at her banker's.

After this he went back to his club, although he himself understood the danger. He could not bear the idea of going to bed, quietly at home at half-past ten. He got into a cab, and was very soon up in the card-room. He found n.o.body there, and went to the smoking-room, where Dolly Longestaffe and Miles Grendall were sitting silently together, with pipes in their mouths. "Here's Carbury," said Dolly, waking suddenly into life. "Now we can have a game at three-handed loo."

"Thank ye; not for me," said Sir Felix. "I hate three-handed loo."

"Dummy," suggested Dolly.