He seated himself at her side, and his eyes, eager and animated, fed on her beauty.  He had come to the belief that only the lightest barriers stood between himself and Evelyn Langham, and it was a question in his mind of just how much he would be willing to sacrifice for her sake.  He boasted nothing in the way of position or reputation, and no act of his could possibly add to the disfavor in which he was already held; but to leave Mount Hope meant certain definite financial losses; this had served as a check on his ardor, for where money was concerned Gilmore was cautious.  But his passion was coming to be the supreme thing in his life; a fortunate chance had placed him where he now stood in relation to her, and chance again, as unkind as it had been kind, might separate them.  The set of Gilmore’s heavy jaws became tense with this thought and with the ruthless strength of his purpose.  He would shake down one sensation for Mount Hope before he got away,—­and he would not go alone.

“I suppose you were at the trial to-day?” Evelyn said.

“Yes, I was there for a little while this afternoon,” he answered.  “It’s rather tame yet, they’re still fussing over the jury.”

“How is Jack bearing it?” she asked.

Her question seemed to depress Gilmore.

“Why do you care about how he takes it?  I don’t suppose he sees any fun in it,—­he didn’t look to me as if he did,” he said slowly.

“But how did he seem to you?”

“Oh, he’s got nerve enough, if that’s what you mean!”

“Poor Jack!” she murmured softly.

“If you’re curious, why don’t you go take a look at poor Jack?  He’ll be there all right for the next few weeks,” said the gambler, watching her narrowly.

“I’m afraid Marsh might object.”

At this Gilmore threw back his head and laughed.

“Excuse me!” he said; and in explanation of his sudden mirth, he added:  “The idea of your trotting out Marsh to me!”

“I’m not trotting him out to you,—­as you call it,” Evelyn said quietly, but her small foot tapped the floor.  She intended presently to rid herself of Gilmore for all time.

“Yes, but I was afraid you were going to.”

“You mustn’t speak to me as you do; I have done nothing to give you the privilege.”

Gilmore did not seem at all abashed at this reproof.

“If you want to go to the trial I’ll take you, and I’ll agree to make it all right with Marsh afterward; what do you say?” he asked.

Evelyn smiled brightly, but she did not explain to him the utter impossibility of their appearing in public together either at the North trial or anywhere else for the matter of that; there were bounds set even to her reckless disregard of what Mount Hope held to be right and proper.

“Oh, no, you’re very kind, but I don’t think I should care to see poor Jack now.”

She gave a little shiver of horror as if at the mere idea.  This was for the gambler, but her real feeling was far deeper than he, suspicious as he was, could possibly know.