“Thank you for answering my questions so patiently, and good-night,” said Gilbert, slipping some silver into her hand; for his quick eye had observed the faded condition of her finery, and a general air of poverty conspicuous in her aspect.  “Stay,” he added, taking out his card-case; “if you should hear anything farther of these people, I should be much obliged by your sending me word at that address.”

“I won’t forget, sir; not that I think we’re likely to hear any more of them, they being gone straight off to America.”

“Perhaps not.  But if you do hear anything, let me know.”

He had dismissed his cab on alighting in Coleman-street, believing that his journey was ended; but the walk to Cavendish-square was a short one, and he set out at a rapid pace.

The check that had befallen him was a severe one.  It seemed a deathblow to all hope, a dreary realization of that vague dread which had pursued him from the first.  If Marian had indeed started for America, what new difficulties must needs attend every effort to bring her back; since it was clear that her father’s interests were involved in keeping her under his influence, and separating her entirely from her husband.  The journey to New York was no doubt intended to secure this state of things.  In America, in that vast country, with which this man was familiar with long residence, how easy for him to hide her for ever from her friends! how vain would all inquiries, all researches be likely to prove!

At the ultimate moment, in the hour of hope and rejoicing, he was lost to them irrevocably.

“Yet criminals have been traced upon the other side of the Atlantic, where the police have been prompt to follow them,” Gilbert said to himself, glancing for an instant at the more hopeful side of the question; “but not often where they’ve got anything like a start.  Did John Saltram really mean to follow those two to Liverpool, I wonder?  Such a journey would seem like madness, in his state; and yet what a triumph if he should have been in time to prevent their starting by the Oronoco!”

And then, after a pause, he asked himself,

“What could he want with Mrs. Branston, at a time when every moment was precious?  Money, perhaps.  He could have had none with him.  Yes, money, no doubt; but I shall discover that from her presently, and may learn something of his plans into the bargain.”

Gilbert went into a stationer’s shop and purchased a Bradshaw.  There was a train leaving Euston station for Liverpool at a quarter to eleven.  He might be in time for that, after seeing Mrs. Branston.  That lady happened fortunately to be at home, and received Gilbert alone in her favourite back drawing-room, where he found her ensconced in that snug retreat made by the six-leaved Japanese screen, which formed a kind of temple on one side of the fire-place.  There had been a final rupture between Adela and Mrs.