‘I shall turn my attention to leather,’ said Michael with decision.

‘You?’ asked Joseph.  ’I advise you not.  There is nothing in the whole field of commerce more surprising than the fluctuations of the leather market.  Its sensitiveness may be described as morbid.’

‘And now, Uncle Joseph, what have you done with all that money?’ asked the lawyer.

‘Paid it into a bank and drew twenty pounds,’ answered Mr Finsbury promptly.  ‘Why?’

‘Very well,’ said Michael.  ’Tomorrow I shall send down a clerk with a cheque for a hundred, and he’ll draw out the original sum and return it to the Anglo-Patagonian, with some sort of explanation which I will try to invent for you.  That will clear your feet, and as Morris can’t touch a penny of it without forgery, it will do no harm to my little scheme.’

‘But what am I to do?’ asked Joseph; ‘I cannot live upon nothing.’

‘Don’t you hear?’ returned Michael.  ’I send you a cheque for a hundred; which leaves you eighty to go along upon; and when that’s done, apply to me again.’

‘I would rather not be beholden to your bounty all the same,’ said Joseph, biting at his white moustache.  ’I would rather live on my own money, since I have it.’

Michael grasped his arm.  ‘Will nothing make you believe,’ he cried, ‘that I am trying to save you from Dartmoor?’

His earnestness staggered the old man.  ’I must turn my attention to law,’ he said; ’it will be a new field; for though, of course, I understand its general principles, I have never really applied my mind to the details, and this view of yours, for example, comes on me entirely by surprise.  But you may be right, and of course at my time of life—­for I am no longer young—­any really long term of imprisonment would be highly prejudicial.  But, my dear nephew, I have no claim on you; you have no call to support me.’

‘That’s all right,’ said Michael; ’I’ll probably get it out of the leather business.’

And having taken down the old gentleman’s address, Michael left him at the corner of a street.

‘What a wonderful old muddler!’ he reflected, ’and what a singular thing is life!  I seem to be condemned to be the instrument of Providence.  Let me see; what have I done today?  Disposed of a dead body, saved Pitman, saved my Uncle Joseph, brightened up Forsyth, and drunk a devil of a lot of most indifferent liquor.  Let’s top off with a visit to my cousins, and be the instrument of Providence in earnest.  Tomorrow I can turn my attention to leather; tonight I’ll just make it lively for ’em in a friendly spirit.’

About a quarter of an hour later, as the clocks were striking eleven, the instrument of Providence descended from a hansom, and, bidding the driver wait, rapped at the door of No. 16 John Street.

It was promptly opened by Morris.

‘O, it’s you, Michael,’ he said, carefully blocking up the narrow opening:  ‘it’s very late.’