"'Tis very hard to play the game of life; For tho' you keep your eye upon the board,
And move your puppets in well-thought-out ways,
Just when the winning seems within your grasp,
Some is touched by stealthy-fingered Chance,
And straight the would-be victor looses all."
 
 
In his office sat Mr. Dombrain before his desk, in deep thought; and judging from the frown on his coarse face, his thoughts were not of the pleasantest. He bit his hard nails, he pulled at his stubbly red moustache, drummed on the table with his large hairy hands, and in fact displayed all the symptoms of a man very much disturbed in his mind. The cause of this was Mrs. Belswin, and, seeing that he was alone, Mr. Dombrain for the moment threw off his professional and cursed the lady . Had she been present, she would have laughed at his outburst of ; but as she had just left the room, he was free to make as rude remarks as he pleased, and he certainly took full advantage of his . The wrath of Mrs. Belswin and the subsequent out of Mr. Dombrain arose out of the following circumstance.
 
The lawyer, seeing that Kaituna had been left penniless, except for certain shares, which he truly assured her were not worth the paper they were written on, had, in a spirit of philanthropy, offered to buy those shares off her at his own price--which was a very small one--so that Miss Pethram would have something to live on. He wrote a letter--a generous and noble letter, from his point of view--in which he offered to take these shares in the Pole Star Mining Company off her hands at a great sacrifice to himself, and Mrs. Belswin had answered the letter on behalf of Kaituna in person. As she was a lady who never matters, however unpleasant, and moreover never exercised any self-control, Mr. Dombrain had rather a bad time of it for a quarter of an hour. He had seen that phrase in a French novel, but had never understood its significance until Mrs. Belswin it to him in her own manner. She said--oh, he hardly remembered what she said, except that she used the word "swindler" pretty often, and made several to the disgrace of an ex-convict exercising an profession in London.
 
Mr. Dombrain could have said something rather disagreeable to her, which would certainly have shut her up, but this modern Xantippe gave him no opportunity of saying a word. She came, she saw, she raged, stormed, crushed, conquered, and finally departed in a whirlwind of passion, telling him that Clendon was going to look after the shares in Melbourne, and that if he dared to try any tricks on her she would--she would---- Mr. Dombrain shivered when he thought of what she said she would do.
 
Now, however, that she was out of the room, and he had collected his thoughts, by her terrific onslaught, he began to think, and after several minutes of thinking and frowning, he grinned. Not a pleasant grin by any manner of means--a nasty Mephistophelean grin that ill to his . She had been unpleasant to him; well, he could now be unpleasant to her, and in a way she wouldn't like. He constructed a little scheme in his head which he thought would answer his purpose, and was about to make a few notes relative to the same, when a card was brought in to him.
 
"Silas P. Oates."
 
Mr. Dombrain shivered, and had the clerk not been present he would have sworn. As it was, however, he merely told the clerk to show the gentleman in, and then trembled at the thought of this second of the past which had succeeded to Mrs. Belswin. She knew about his little mistake in New Zealand, so also did Mr. Oates; and Mr. Dombrain in dismay as he thought of the double chance of exposure now threatening him. Did the American come as a friend, as an enemy, or in ignorance? Dombrain hoped the first, the second, but felt pretty confident that the third was the American's state of mind, as he certainly would never connect Dombrain the with Damberton the convict. However, it would be in another minute, so Mr. Dombrain smoothed his hair, imposed a nervous grin on his mouth, and waited the of this second bogie with inward fear but outward calm.
 
The millionaire entered, quite of the second shock which awaited him; for his purpose in seeking out Mr. Dombrain was wholly unconnected with the idea that he would find an old friend. The fact is, Mr. Oates had read the Thornstream case, had noticed that Mrs. Belswin was mixed up with it, and had sought out Mr. Dombrain--whose name was also in the papers--with the idea of finding out the precise position held by Mrs. Belswin in the house of her former husband. Sir Rupert's solicitor could tell him this if it was from him artfully. Mr. Dombrain was Sir Rupert's solicitor, so to Mr. Dombrain came the Silas, wholly ignorant of what awaited him.
 
Silas did not notice Dombrain particularly at first, but sat down in the chair beside the table and cast about for some good idea wherewith to begin an extremely awkward conversation. Dombrain saw that he was not recognised, so kept his face in the shadow as much as possible, and in a low, gruff voice, as if his throat was stuffed with cotton wool.
 
"I have called, sir," observed Mr. Oates, after a preliminary cough, "to speak to you about the late Sir Rupert Pethram."
 
"Yes?"
 
"You, sir, I understand, were his lawyer. Is that so?"
 
"Tha............