’First and foremost, we do not know how you came in possession of them; secondly, we do not know who you are.’

’They came to me fairly enough—­bequeathed to me by one who had the right to leave them.  Would you have had all that gold left for an adventurer to wallow in?’

‘You must keep your treasure, sir, however it may have come to you,’ answered Lord Hartfield firmly.  ’My wife cannot take upon herself the burden of a single gold coin—­least of all from a stranger.  Remember, sir, to us your possession of this wealth—­nay, your whole existence—­is a mystery.’

‘You want to know who I am?’ said the old man drawing himself up, with a sudden hauteur which was not without dignity, despite his shrunken form and grotesque appearence.  ‘Well, sir.  I am——­’

He checked himself abruptly, and looked round the room with a scared expression.

‘No, no, no,’ he muttered; ’caution, caution!  They have not done with me yet; she warned me—­they are lying in wait; I mustn’t walk into their trap.’  And then turning to Lord Hartfield, he said, haughtily, ’I shall not condescend to tell you who I am, sir.  You must know that I am a gentleman, and that is enough for you.  There is my gift to your wife’—­pointing to the chest—­’take it or leave it.’

‘I shall leave it, sir, with all due respect.’

A frightful change came over the old man’s face at this determined refusal.  His eyes glowered at Lord Hartfield under the heavy scowling brows; his bloodless lips worked convulsively.

‘Do you take me for a thief?’ he exclaimed.  ’Are you afraid to touch my gold—­that gold for which men and women sell their souls, blast their lives with shame, and pain, and dishonour, all the world over?  Do you stand aloof from it—­refuse to touch it, as if it were infected?  And you, too, girl!  Have you no sense?  Are you an idiot?’

‘I can do nothing against my husband’s wish,’ Mary answered, quietly; ’and, indeed, there is no need for us to take your money.  We are rich without it.  Please leave that chest to a hospital.  It will be ever so much better than giving it to us.’

‘You told me you were going to marry a poor man?’

’I know.  But he cheated me, and turned out to be a rich man.  He was a horrid impostor,’ said Mary, drawing closer to her husband, and smiling up at him.

The old man flung down the lid of his strong box, which shut with a sonorous clang.  He locked it, and put the key in his pocket.

‘I have done with you.’ he said.  ’You can go your ways, both of you.  Fools, fools, fools!  The world is peopled with rogues and fools; and, by heaven, I would rather have to do with the rogues!’

He flung himself into an arm-chair, one of the few objects of furniture in the room, and left them to find their way back alone.

‘Good-night, sir,’ said Lord Hartfield; but the old man made no reply.  He sat frowning sullenly.