"Have a little more patience, and as a last resort we will advertise.

I have reason for wishing to keep the affair quiet for the present; for I have some very peculiar suspicions, and I may be incorrect, but I think we shall find out presently how the matter stands. I have just had an interview with my former valet, who thinks he can help me out."

"What, that boy?"

"Yes."

"I cannot see what a boy can do."

"That boy is a great calculator, and he is as faithful as Noah's dove."

"He shall be repaid if he accomplishes anything at all."

"He needs it. The boy is ambitious and works very hard."

"Well," said Le Moyne, "I have decided to search as long as there is the least shadow of a hope. There is a mystery about it that must be cleared up."

"I have an idea that Paul has some good ground on which to base his hopes of success, for the boy is never over-sanguine, and he must have at least some foundation."

"I really hope he has," said Le Moyne.

It was a whole year since Paul had left Scott, and he had seen him but twice during that time. He did not know where he was at present, but he believed he would return if he lived.

June entered his room. She was still June Wilmer. Guy had urged her to take the name of Horton, but she told him in a decided way that she was not quite ready, and he was obliged to content himself with a promise. The fact was that June was testing his loyalty, but he would wait a lifetime for her, he said, rather than to marry another.

Guy was conversing with June on this very afternoon that Mr. Le Moyne had been consulting Scott. A servant had called June to come to the kitchen and have her fortune told by an old gypsy woman who was selling bead work. June went down asking Guy and Scott to follow her.

Sitting down, they looked at the old dame who was handling her bead work, but did not raise her head, when they entered.

"I think I have seen you before," Scott said.

She shook her head.

"You are going to tell my fortune," he said; "tell me, then, if I shall ever be wealthy."

"You are more wealthy now than you need to be. Oh, you need not question me, I can tell you all."

"Very well, go on."

"Your mother is living, but your father is dead."

"Very true."

"You have been married."

June started.

"You married a beautiful woman, but she is gone."

"Dead?" Scott asked.

"No, she loves another."

"Is she happy?"

"As happy as she knows how to be. She is far from here. You are not happy, and you are trying to work out a great mystery."

"Will I accomplish it?"

"If you let me help you."

"I think I shall get through without help."

"You are afraid of the old gypsy, but let me tell you there is the stain of blood on your hands within another year."

Scott frowned, and June looked serious. It was the same words that the old gypsy had told some years before.

"There are tears for you, too. Do you believe me?"

"Hardly."

"I can tell you something that will make you believe. Away back in the past I can see you lying asleep, and a huge knife drawn over your head. If you will let me I can save you from another scene like that, which would be your death blow."

"How?"

"I can't tell you now."

"Then you cannot help me."

"I can if you will tell me a secret."

"I prefer to keep my own secrets," said Scott; "here is your money."

"Then you will not let me help you?"

"Not at present."

"Some day you will grind your teeth in rage because you did not accept what I offered."

"Very well," said Scott, as he arose to leave the room, "when I want help I will let you know."

"Then I may be far away."

Scott made no reply, but left the room, followed by Guy and June.

"I cannot see how she can tell," said June.

"Why, June," said Scott, smiling, "are you foolish enough to think she knows?"

"Why, Scott, she did tell the truth."