Accordingly, I lit the gas and made my tea, enlivening my solitude by turning over in my mind the events of the afternoon.

Juliet had been charming—­as she always was—­frank, friendly and unaffectedly pleased to have my companionship.  She evidently liked me and did not disguise the fact—­why should she indeed?—­but treated me with a freedom, almost affectionate, as though I had been a favourite brother; which was very delightful, and would have been more so if I could have accepted the relationship.  As to her feelings towards me, I had not the slightest misgiving, and so my conscience was clear; for Juliet was as innocent as a child, with the innocence that belongs to the direct, straightforward nature that neither does evil itself nor looks for evil motives in others.  For myself, I was past praying for.  The thing was done and I must pay the price hereafter, content to reflect that I had trespassed against no one but myself.  It was a miserable affair, and many a heartache did it promise me in the lonely days that were to come, when I should have said “good-bye” to the Temple and gone back to my old nomadic life; and yet I would not have had it changed if I could; would not have bartered the bitter-sweet memories for dull forgetfulness.

But other matters had transpired in the course of our drive than those that loomed so large to me in the egotism of my love.  We had spoken of Mr. Hornby and his affairs, and from our talk there had emerged certain facts of no little moment to the inquiry on which I was engaged.

“Misfortunes are proverbially sociable,” Juliet had remarked, in reference to her adopted uncle.  “As if this trouble about Reuben were not enough, there are worries in the city.  Perhaps you have heard of them.”

I replied that Walter had mentioned the matter to me.

“Yes,” said Juliet rather viciously; “I am not quite clear as to what part that good gentleman has played in the matter.  It has come out, quite accidentally, that he had a large holding in the mines himself, but he seems to have ‘cut his loss,’ as the phrase goes, and got out of them; though how he managed to pay such large differences is more than we can understand.  We think he must have raised money somehow to do it.”

“Do you know when the mines began to depreciate?” I asked.

“Yes, it was quite a sudden affair—­what Walter calls ’a slump’—­and it occurred only a few days before the robbery.  Mr. Hornby was telling me about it only yesterday, and he recalled it to me by a ridiculous accident that happened on that day.”

“What was that?” I inquired.