On the Sunday following, Frank, as usual, was in Hertford Street. He had become almost a favourite with Mrs. Carbuncle; and had so far ingratiated himself even with Lucinda Roanoke that, according to Lizzie’s report, he might if so inclined rob Sir Griffin of his prize without much difficulty. On this occasion he was unhappy and in low spirits; and when questioned on the subject made no secret of the fact that he was harassed for money. “The truth is, I have overdrawn my bankers by five hundred pounds, and they have, as they say, ventured to remind me of it. I wish they were not venturesome quite so often; for they reminded me of the same fact about a fortnight ago.”

“What do you do with your money, Mr. Greystock?” asked Mrs. Carbuncle laughing.

“Muddle it away, paying my bills with it, according to the very, very old story. The fact is I live in that detestable no man’s land, between respectability and insolvency, which has none of the pleasure of either. I am fair game for every creditor, as I am supposed to pay my way, and yet I never can pay my way.”

“Just like my poor dear father,” said Lizzie.

“Not exactly, Lizzie. He managed much better, and never paid anybody. If I could only land on terra firma, one side or the other, I shouldn’t much care which. As it is, I have all the recklessness, but none of the carelessness, of a hopelessly insolvent man. And it is so hard with us. Attorneys owe us large sums of money, and we can’t dun them very well. I have a lot of money due to me from rich men, who don’t pay me simply because they don’t think that it matters. I talk to them grandly, and look big, as though money was the last thing I thought of, when I am longing to touch my hat and ask them as a great favour to settle my little bill.” All this time Lizzie was full of matter which she must impart to her cousin, and could impart to him only in privacy.

It was absolutely necessary that she should tell him what she had heard of Patience Crabstick. In her heart of hearts she wished that Patience Crabstick had gone off safely with her plunder to the Antipodes. She had no wish to get back what had been lost, either in the matter of the diamonds or of the smaller things taken. She had sincerely wished that the police might fail in all their endeavours, and that the thieves might enjoy perfect security with their booty. She did not even begrudge Mr. Benjamin the diamonds — or Lord George, if in truth Lord George had been the last thief. The robbery had enabled her to get the better of Mr. Camperdown, and apparently of Lord Fawn; and had freed her from the custody of property which she had learned to hate. It had been a very good robbery. But now these wretched police had found Patience Crabstick and would disturb her again!

Of course she must tell her cousin. He must hear the news, and it would be better that he should hear it from her than from others. This was Sunday, and she thought he would be sure to know the truth on the following Monday. In this she was right: for on the Monday old Lady Linlithgow saw it stated in the newspapers that an arrest had been made. “I have something to tell you,” she said, as soon as she had succeeded in finding herself alone with him.

“Anything about the diamonds?”

“Well, no; not exactly about the diamonds; though perhaps it is. But first, Frank, I want to say something else to you.”

“Not about the diamonds?”

“Oh no; not at all. It is this. You must let me lend you that five hundred pounds you want.”

“Indeed, you shall do no such thing. I should not have mentioned it to you if I had not thought that you were one of the insolvent yourself. You were in debt yourself when we last talked about money.”

“So I am; and that horrid woman, Mrs. Carbuncle, has made me lend her one hundred and fifty pounds. But it is so different with you, Frank.”

“Yes; my needs are greater than hers.”

“What is she to me? while you are everything! Things can’t be so bad with me but what I can raise five hundred pounds. After all, I am not really in debt, for a person with my income; but if I were, still my first duty would be to help you if you want help.”

“Be generous first, and just afterwards. That’s it; isn’t it, Lizzie? But indeed, under no circumstances could I take a penny of your money. There are some persons from whom a man can borrow and some from whom he cannot. You are clearly one of those from whom I cannot borrow.”

“Why not?”

“Ah, one can’t explain these things. It simply is so. Mrs. Carbuncle was quite the natural person to borrow your money, and it seems that she has complied with nature. Some Jew who wants thirty per cent is the natural person for me. All these things are arranged, and it is of no use disturbing the arrangements and getting out of course. I shall pull through. And now let me know your own news.”

“The police have taken Patience.”

“They have, have they? Then at last we shall know all about the diamonds.” This was gall to poor Lizzie. “Where did they get her?”

“Ah! I don’t know that.”

“And who told you?”

“A policeman came here last night and said so. She is going to turn against the thieves and tell all that she knows. Nasty, mean creature.”

“Thieves are nasty, mean creatures generally. We shall get it all out now — as to what happened at Carlisle and what happened here. Do you know that everybody believes, up to this moment, that your dear friend Lord George de Bruce sold the diamonds to Mr. Benjamin the jeweller?”

Lizzie could only shrug her shoulders. She herself, among many doubts, was upon the whole disposed to think as everybody thought. She did believe — as far as she believed anything in the matter — that the Corsair had determined to become possessed of the prize from the moment that he saw it in Scotland; that the Corsair arranged the robbery in Carlisle, and that again he arranged the robbery in the London house as soon as he learned from Lizzie where the diamonds were placed. To her mind this had been the most ready solution of the mystery, and when she found that other people almost regarded him as the thief, her doubts became a belief. And she did not in the least despise or dislike him or condemn him for what he had done. Were he to come to her and confess it all, telling his story in such a manner as to make her seem to be safe for the future, she would congratulate him and accept him at once as her own dear, expected Corsair. But if so, he should not have bungled the thing. He should have managed his subordinates better than to have one of them turn evidence against him. He should have been able to get rid of a poor weak female like Patience Crabstick. Why had he not sent her to New York, or — or — or anywhere? If Lizzie were to hear that Lord George had taken Patience out to sea in a yacht — somewhere among the bright islands of which she thought so much — and dropped the girl overboard, tied up in a bag, she would regard it as a proper Corsair arrangement. Now she was angry with Lord George because her trouble was coming back upon her. Frank had suggested that Lord George was the robber in chief, and Lizzie merely shrugged her shoulders. “We shall know all about it now,” said he triumphantly.

“I don’t know that I want to know any more about it. I have been so tortured about these wretched diamonds that I never wish to hear them mentioned again. I don’t care who has got them. My enemies used to think that I loved them so well that I could not bear to part with them. I hated them always, and ne............