Sir Mark awoke the next morning thoroughly convinced that he had been the victim of a scoundrel, but he kept his word, and did everything possible in the way of providing able legal assistance for his son-in-law. He had taken Myra and her cousin at once to a retired seaside place within easy reach of town, and made James Dale’s case the sole business of his life.

It was a two days’ business, that trial, owing to the efforts made by the counsel for the defence, who fought their client’s cause gallantly. But it was a losing game from beginning to end; the proofs were utterly crushing. James Dale had obtained a large income from the forgeries for years, and his companion in the iniquity had purchased property extensively. The West Indian estates were certainly in existence, and belonged to a family named Barron, but in the prisoner’s case the name was assumed, and in his real patronymic he, with his confederate, was sentenced to seven years’ penal servitude.

“Deserved it, every hour,” said Sir Mark, with a sigh of relief, as he drove away from the court with Guest. “Now for a few months of quiet abroad, and then I shall have to see the lawyers again.”

Guest looked at him inquiringly.

“Eh? What do I mean? Well, I don’t understand much about such matters, but surely under the circumstances the laws of England will not keep my child tied to such a rascal as that.”

Guest was about to speak, but the old man interrupted him.

“Fancy, my lad, after an apprenticeship of seven years to a convict’s life that fellow knocking at my door, and Andrews coming up to say that he had called for his wife.”

Guest shuddered: the idea was horrible.

“No, no, my lad; that would not do at all. But there, say no more about it now. By and by I shall hear what the lawyers think about a divorce.”

They shook hands and parted, the admiral going home, and Guest straight to his friend’s chambers, where he knocked, but there was no answer.

Brettison came out, though, from the adjoining room.

“He has not come back yet from the trial,” Brettison said.

“Indeed! I looked round the court, but could not see him there. You have heard, of course?”

“The verdict? Yes, I was there.”

The two men looked inquiringly into each others’ eyes, and just then a step was heard upon the stairs.

“Here he is,” whispered Guest, and the next minute, looking very calm and self-possessed, Stratton joined them, and asked them in; but Brettison declined, and went back to his own chambers, while Guest followed his friend into his room, thinking, as he entered the quiet, retired place, of how his coming had changed the current of Stratton’s career.

“Sit down, old fellow,” said Stratton cheerfully, and he opened the closet by the fireplace to reach down a box of cigars, which he handed to Guest, and then took one himself.

“Now for it,” thought Guest as Stratton sat back, looking pale still and thin from his illnes............