"Sell out two thousand pounds of this independent fortune of yours, that has been invested in the Deep Sea Cockle Mine, or in debentures of the Railway in the Air.

Let me see but two thousand pounds, Mr.Richard Yorke, and then--and not before--may you open your lips to me again respecting my daughter Harry." He turned upon his heel with a bitter laugh; while Richard, as white as the sketch-book he still held in his hand, remained speechless.

A perilous thought had taken possession of his mind--a thought that it would have been better for him to have dropped down there dead than to have entertained, but it grew and grew apace within him like a foul weed.

Had his life of selfish pleasure angered the long-suffering gods, and, having resolved upon his ruin, were they already making him mad?
He ran after the old man, who did not so much as turn to look behind him, though he could not but have heard his rapid steps.

"Mr.Trevethick, I will do it," he gasped out.
"Do what ?" said the other, contemptuously, striding on.