“It can’t be,” they said; and—­“I hate to see that chit making a fool of a nice man like that.”

The Duke, whose ears were growing longer every day, heard them once and began to bellow suddenly in that disconcerting way of his.

“It’s all right!” he shouted.  “You needn’t be afraid.  She won’t have him.”

The ladies jeered secretly.  To their minds the question was not whether the girl would have Silver, but whether he would be Mug enough to give her the chance.

Certainly the pair were drawing close.

Days together in the saddle, the risks and small adventures of the field, and by no means least those long hacks home at evening, not seldom in the dark, over the Downs, a great wind blowing gustily under clear stars, did their sure, unconscious work.

Up to Christmas the young man visited Putnam’s regularly.  Then he missed two successive week-ends.  When he came again there was a cloud over him.  It was so faint and far that nobody noticed it indeed but the girl.  She was not deceived.

As they rode home in the afternoon he was more silent than his wont.  Once or twice her eyes sought his.  His brows were level and drawn down.  There was resistance in his face.

“Are you worried?” she asked.

His plain, strong face broke up, brightened and became beautiful.

“Yes,” he said.

“Tell me.”

“It’s the only thing that ever worries me.”

“What?”

“The Bank.”

“Is it going wrong?”

He laughed again.

“I don’t know,” he said, and began to chuckle at himself.  “That’s the trouble.  I can’t get the hang of it.  There’s a screw loose somewhere.  I’m like a man steering a ship who knows nothing about navigation.”

“It’s all right if you do your best,” said the girl, with the little preacher touch she inherited from her grand-dad.  That note always caused an imp of mischief to bob up in the young man’s heart.

“Hope so, de we,” he said.

She looked at him sharply. She might censure her father, but she allowed that liberty to no one else.

“What!” she said.

Jim Silver took to instant flight.

“None-nothing,” he stammered.  “Only I’m afraid the pup-passengers won’t think it’s all right when they find themselves going to the bottom.  They’ll say, ‘What business had you at the wheel if you can’t steer?’ And they’ll be right, too.”

* * * * *

With the New Year the young man came no more for week-ends, and the reason was well known.

The hunting-field is always a great place for gossip, for except at rare intervals there is little else to do.  And with the Duke’s hounds the gossip was about Mr. Silver.

The Union Bank of Brazil and Uruguay was known to be in difficulties, and Boy hunted alone.

“Where’s your Life Guardsman?” asked the Duke.