Jim turned to me pleadingly—­we were all on our feet.  “Loudon,” he said, “you see Mamie has some fancy; and I must say there’s just a sort of a shadow of an excuse; for it IS bewildering—­even to me, Loudon, with my trained business intelligence.  For God’s sake, clear it up.”

“This serves me right,” said I.  “I should not have tried to keep you in the dark; I should have told you at first that I was pledged to secrecy; I should have asked you to trust me in the beginning.  It is all I can do now.  There is more of the story, but it concerns none of us, and my tongue is tied.  I have given my word of honour.  You must trust me and try to forgive me.”

“I daresay I am very stupid, Mr. Dodd,” began Mamie, with an alarming sweetness, “but I thought you went upon this trip as my husband’s representative and with my husband’s money?  You tell us now that you are pledged, but I should have thought you were pledged first of all to James.  You say it does not concern us; we are poor people, and my husband is sick, and it concerns us a great deal to understand how we come to have lost our money, and why our representative comes back to us with nothing.  You ask that we should trust you; you do not seem to understand; the question we are asking ourselves is whether we have not trusted you too much.”

“I do not ask you to trust me,” I replied.  “I ask Jim.  He knows me.”

“You think you can do what you please with James; you trust to his affection, do you not?  And me, I suppose, you do not consider,” said Mamie.  “But it was perhaps an unfortunate day for you when we were married, for I at least am not blind.  The crew run away, the ship is sold for a great deal of money, you know that man’s address and you conceal it, you do not find what you were sent to look for, and yet you burn the ship; and now, when we ask explanations, you are pledged to secrecy!  But I am pledged to no such thing; I will not stand by in silence and see my sick and ruined husband betrayed by his condescending friend.  I will give you the truth for once.  Mr. Dodd, you have been bought and sold.”

“Mamie,” cried Jim, “no more of this!  It’s me you’re striking; it’s only me you hurt.  You don’t know, you cannot understand these things.  Why, to-day, if it hadn’t been for Loudon, I couldn’t have looked you in the face.  He saved my honesty.”

“I have heard plenty of this talk before,” she replied.  “You are a sweet-hearted fool, and I love you for it.  But I am a clear-headed woman; my eyes are open, and I understand this man’s hypocrisy.  Did he not come here to-day and pretend he would take a situation—­pretend he would share his hard-earned wages with us until you were well?  Pretend!  It makes me furious!  His wages! a share of his wages!  That would have been your pittance, that would have been your share of the Flying Scud—­you who worked and toiled for him when he was a beggar in the streets of Paris.  But we do not want your charity; thank God, I can work