my conscience hath a thousand several tongues

and every tongue brings in a several tale,

and every tale condemns me for a villain.

—richard iii. v. 3.

in response to ayloffe's whisper, stowmaries had asked hurriedly:

"is this the man?"

the older man nodded, and stowmaries gazed long and searchingly upon his cousin, vaguely wondering if sir john's astuteness had pointed in the right direction, if indeed this were the man most likely to lend himself for a large sum of money to the furtherance of an ignoble scheme.

stowmaries saw before him a man—still in the prime of life but on whom dissipation, sleeplessness by night and starvation by day had already boldly writ their impress; a man like unto himself in feature, a distinct family resemblance being noticeable between the two cousins, but in michael kestyon—the reckless adventurer—the evenly placid expression born of a contented life had long ago yielded to the wild, hunted look, the mirror of a turbulent soul. he wore a surcoat which was obviously of rich cloth though the many vicissitudes of camp life had left severe imprints upon its once immaculate surface: beneath this coat there peeped out innocent of vest, the shirt, which once had been wrought by loving fingers, of fine linen and delicate stitchery, but now presented the appearance of a miscellaneous collection of tatters and darns with[104] here and there a dark stain on it, which spoke of more than one sword thrust in the breast, of the miseries of that life of fighting and of toil, of aches and pains and of ill-tended wounds.

the rest of michael's attire was in keeping with the surcoat and the shirt: the faded silk sash long since deprived of tassels, the collar free from starch, the breeches a veritable motley of patchwork, and the high boots of untanned leather, stained a dark greenish brown from exposure to constant damp.

this then was the man who was most like to sell himself for so much money, and stowmaries noting the squalor of michael's attire, the dissipated yet wearied look in his face, ceased to wonder how it came that sir john had thought of this wastrel, and in his mind fully approved of the choice.

suddenly michael kestyon caught sight of the two men standing under the lintel of the door. he greeted them at once with a shout of welcome.

"my worthy coz!" he said gaily, "and if i mistake not 'tis gallant sir john ayloffe, the finest rogue that ever graced a court. gentlemen!" he continued mocking, and advancing with mincing and unsteady steps towards the two men, "pray tell us—though by the mass i call you right welcome—what procures this humble abode the honour of such distinguished company?"

whilst the young man spoke, most of his companions had ceased both song and laughter; several faces—all flushed with heady liquor—were turned towards the door, whilst glances wherein suspicion fought with the confusing fumes of alcohol, were directed on the newcomers.

but sir john ayloffe with determined good humour had returned michael's greeting with easy bonhomie.

[105]

"nay, friend michael," he said, the while he prudently closed the door behind him and stowmaries, lest the noise in the coffee room awaken his sleeping friends, "your amiable cousin and i myself were tired of the sober assembly in the parlour and had desire for more merry company. i hope your call of welcome was no mere empty word, and that of a truth we may join your hospitable board."

with much gravity michael surveyed ayloffe and stowmaries up and down, from the diamond buckles on their shoes to the elaborate curls of their gigantic perruques; then he turned to his friends, who had followed his every movement with that solemn attention peculiar to the drunkard, which tries yet fails to comprehend what is going on before him.

"what say you, gentlemen?" he said, "shall we admit these noble rogues to our table? my cousin here, as you see, has but lately emerged from the surveillance of his keeper, he inhabited a monkey garden for a considerable time, and hath collected a vast amount of hair on his head from the shavings of his many companions."

a terrific and prolonged shout of laughter shook the very walls of the room, the while stowmaries, who suddenly had became pale with rage, placed a quivering hand on the hilt of his sword.

"insolent beggar!—" he murmured in a hoarse voice, which, however, was completely drowned in the bibulous noise which had greeted michael's impertinent sally and which rose and fell in a continuous roar for some considerable time, the while michael himself, satisfied at the effect which he had produced, struck up the refrain of a drinking song.

"in the name of the lady whom you honour with your love, good my lord," whispered ayloffe close to stow[106]maries' ear and with impressive earnestness, "i entreat you to keep your temper. we have need of this wastrel for the success of our scheme, and a quarrel would of a surety ruin it completely."

michael kestyon now turned to his cousin once more.

"i pray you take your seats, gentlemen," he said pointing with unsteady gesture to a couple of empty chairs placed at the head of the table, "though you may not be aware of it, my friends here have shown a desire for the continuance of your presence amongst us. had they not desired it they would have shown their disapproval by various hints more or less gentle, such as the throwing of a pewter mug at you or the elevation of their toe to the level of your majestic persons. but as it is ye may rest assured, ye are welcome here."

"i thank you, good michael," said ayloffe pleasantly, as in response to michael's invitation he now advanced further into the room and took his seat at the head of the board, followed by stowmaries who was making vain attempts to conceal his contempt of the proceedings, and to master his ill-humour.

"indeed," continued sir john addressing with gracious familiarity the united company present, "i know not what we have done to deserve your favours. believe me, we came as suppliants desiring to be entertained by the most noted merrimakers in london."

michael with the same mock gravity once more resumed his place at the table close beside sir john ayloffe. he drew two mugs towards him and from a gigantic pewter jug, he poured out full measures of a thick red liquid, which had the appearance of spiced wine.

the beverage certainly exhaled a remarkable methylic[107] odour, which from the nostrils seemed to strike straight into the brain making the blood seethe in the head and the eyes glow as with the heat of running fire. moreover the mugs which michael had filled, and then pushed towards the newcomers were not over clean. even sir john had much ado to keep his outward show of geniality and to mask his friend's more and more marked impatience and disgust.

"by the mass, merry sirs," quoth michael with boisterous hilarity, "an you really desire to be of our company we will grant you admittance. but first must ye pledge us in a full bumper of this nectar, concocted by good master foorde for the complete undoing of his most favoured guests. we drink to you, gentlemen, brother rogues an you please. if you are saints do not drink. the liquid will poison you."

"to you all, brother rogues," came in lusty accents from sir john ayloffe as he jumped to his feet, bumper in hand, "and may you accept us as two of the worst rogues that ever graced your hospitable board."

he quaffed the sickly, very heady liquid at one draught. he had kept himself uncommonly sober throughout the evening and the potion he knew could not do him a great deal of harm. he had a solid head and was not unused to the rough concoctions made up of cheap wines, of alcohol and sundry spices wherewith these noisy louts were wont still further to addle their over-confused pates.

stowmaries would have demurred, despite the warning look thrown at him from beneath sir john's heavy lids, but, looking up, he saw michael's deep-set eyes fixed upon him with a measure of amusement not altogether free from sarcasm which vastly irritated him and without attempt[108]ing to hide his disgust he raised the heavy mug with a gesture of recklessness and contempt and he too drank it down at one draught.

there were loud shouts of approval at this, and the occasion was further improved by more drinking and the singing of various snatches culled from the most noted and most licentious songs.

but michael was now examining sir john ayloffe very attentively. the latter having drunk expressed distinct appreciation of the beverage, and even made pretence, as he once more resumed his seat, of asking for more.

"you are looking at me with strange persistence, good michael," he said at last with unalterable blandness, as he returned the younger man's questioning gaze.

"may not a cat look at a king," retorted the other lightly, "or a beggar gaze on the exalted personality of sir john ayloffe?"

"by all means, and welcome. but, on my faith, my personality is in no wise exalted, therefore, i may be permitted to ask again what is the cause of your flattering attention?"

"curiosity," replied michael curtly.

"curiosity?"

"yes. i was wondering in my mind why you are here to-night, and why you have brought mine estimable if somewhat weak-minded cousin with you here, in the very midst of the most evil-reputed crowd in london?"

"oh!" protested sir john gallantly, "'tis not the most evil-reputed crowd by any means. we, who are accustomed to the profligate life of a gentleman, look over leniently on the innocent if somewhat flashy debaucheries of these pleasure-lovers here."

"yet are we no mere pleasure lovers, sir john," said[109] michael with a sudden air of seriousness which contrasted strangely with his flushed face and his slovenly and ragged attire. "you see here before you the very scum of humanity, the bits of flotsam and jetsam which the tide of fortune throws upon the shores of life; tattered rags of manhood, shattered lives, disappointed hopes! this room is full of these wreckages, like morsels of poisonous seaweed or of empty shells that litter the earth and make it foul with their noisome putrefaction. elegant gentlemen like you and my fair cousin here should not join in this mêlée wherein crime falls against crime, and moral foulness pollutes the air. we are rogues here, sir, all of us," he added bringing his hand open-palmed crashing down upon the table, "rogues that have long ago ceased to blush, rogues that shrink neither before crime nor before shame. rogues! rogues! all of us—not born so remember, but made rogues because of some one else's crime, some one else's shame!—but damned rogues for all that!"

he drank another bumper full of spiced wine! he had spoken loudly and hoarsely with wrathful eyes gazing straight ahead before him, as if striving through the foul smoke and vitiated air of this den of thieves to perceive that nook in a kentish village, where in a tumble-down, miserable cottage, a woman who should have been countess of stowmaries was often on her knees scrubbing the tiled floors.

but stowmaries's laugh, loud and almost malignant, broke the trend of michael's thoughts.

"ay, ay! well said!" he shouted as loudly, as hilariously as had done the others. "well said, michael, for you at least, an rumour doth not lie, are a damned rogue for all that!"

"nay! nay!" interposed ayloffe with mild amiability,[110] "you do your cousin michael a grave injustice. i know that my lord of rochester would back me up in what i say. all these gentlemen here are rogues but in name. they shout and they sing, they parade the streets and make merry, but they are, of a truth, of a right good sort, and if only a pleasing turn of fortune came their way, they would all become peaceful citizens in a trice and forswear all their deeds of profligacy, of which they are often cordially ashamed."

'twas michael's turn to laugh. he threw back his head so that the muscles of his neck stood out like cords, and he laughed loudly and immoderately, with a laugh that had absolutely no mirth in it.

"ashamed of our roguery," he said at last, when that outburst had ceased and he was once more learning forward across the table with dark, glowing eyes wandering from one flushed face to another. "hark at him, gentlemen! sir john ayloffe here would make saints of us! hark ye, sir," he continued bringing his excited face close to that of sir john, "i for one delight in mine own roguery. i am what i am, do you hear? what the buffetings of fate and the injustice of man have made me. the more my mealy-mouthed cousin here exults in his courtliness and in his honour, the more do i glory in mine own disgrace. if that is honour," he said pointing with a trembling hand at stowmaries who despite his brave attire cut but a sorry figure at the present moment, for he felt supremely ill at ease, "then am i content to be a rogue. the greater the villainy, the prouder am i to accomplish it, and if i am to go to hell for it, then let my damnation be on the head of those who have driven me thither."

stowmaries shrugged his shoulders in moody contempt.[111] sir john looked like one profoundly impressed at an unforeseen aspect of affairs.

"as for me," growled one of the men sulkily, "pay me for it and i'll stick a knife into any person you list."

he was an elderly man with a red face and straggly white hair. he had been a scholar once, drunkenness and an inordinate love of gambling had made him what he now was.

"for ten golden sovereigns i'd poison the king!" quoth another thickly.

"for less than that i'd sell my soul!" added another.

"thou canst not sell what thou hast not got," comes in a quick reply from the further end of the table.

"and you, friend michael, what would you do for a fortune?" asked sir john returning michael's gaze with a firm, earnest look.

"i'd ask the devil to spare my cousin here!" replied michael flippantly.

"you would not play the part of an hired assassin, i am sure."

"if i hated any one well enough, i'd kill him without pay," retorted the other.

"or abduct a woman?"

"an she pleased me, i'd not want money to tell her so."

"then meseems," sighed sir john with a deprecating shrug of the shoulders, "that i have come to the wrong man with mine offer."

"there was no offer," quoth michael curtly.

"ay! of a fortune," rejoined the other calmly.

"not a serious one."

"as serious as mine own presence here."

"you have come here prepared to make me an offer?"[112] reiterated the young man now, with contemptuous incredulity.

"the offer of a fortune," reiterated ayloffe quietly.

"how much?"

"one hundred and twenty thousand pounds."

"one hundred—"

"and twenty thousand pounds," repeated sir john with slow emphasis.

"bah!—'tis a stupid and a purposeless lie!"

and michael striving to look indifferent leaned back in his chair, then fell forward again with elbows resting heavily on the table the while his eyes glowing with the excitement of heady liquor and the vague suggestion only half expressed searched the face of the older man.

"who would give a ne'er-do-well one hundred and twenty thousand pounds?" he reiterated in an unsteady voice, "and for what purpose? are you fooling me, sir john?"

"on my solemn word of honour, no!" asserted the latter calmly.

"then for what purpose?" repeated michael, whilst a sneer which looked almost evil for a moment quite distorted his face. "am i to murder some offending stranger in the dark? bribe the king's physician to poison him, or turn informant against my cousin's co-religionists in england as is the fashion nowadays? well! tell me what it is? have i not told you that i am rogue enough to accomplish mine own damnation—at a price."

"my good michael, you mistake my meaning. i propose no roguery unworthy a gentleman. an you'll accept my offer you'd have no cause to regret it, for you'd be a rich, happy and contented man to the last day of your life."

[113] "an it were so simple as that, man," quoth michael drily, "you'd have no need to offer a fortune to a rogue in order to get what you want. as for the rest, methinks that most rogueries are unworthy a gentleman. but then you see i am no gentleman, else i were not here now, and probably had long ere this flung my glove in your face. so out with it—you offer me one hundred and twenty thousand pounds—for what?"

instinctively for the last five minutes or so as their conversation drew into more serious channels, the two men had gradually dropped their voices, speaking almost in a whisper. they had drawn their chairs closely together to the corner of the table, with lord stowmaries between them, silent and attentive.

sir john at this stage was sitting close to the end of the table, the full length of which stretched out on his right. he raised his head now and gave a quick glance at the rest of the assembly.

those of the revellers who were not wholly incapable, either sprawling across the table, or lying prone upon the floor, had drawn up their chairs in groups. the rattle of dice in boxes was distinctly audible above the snoring of the sleepers, also muttered curses from the gamblers who were losing and the clink of brass money passing from hand to hand. satisfied that the attention of the company had long since wandered away from himself and michael, he once more turned to the young man and said quietly in response to that impatient: "for what?"

"for marrying the pretty daughter of an amiable paris bourgeois, the wench being over-ready to fall into your arms."

michael made no movement but he studied sir john's face, as if he thought that the man was not completely sane, or had succumbed to the fumes of spiced wine.

[114] "i do not understand," he murmured quite bewildered.

"must i repeat my words?" said sir john imperturbably. "there is a wench over in paris, as pure and good as the day on which she lisped her first ave maria at her mother's knee. for certain simple reasons which you will hear anon, a husband must be found for her within the next fourteen days. an you'll be that happy man there will be fifty thousand pounds for you as soon as you agree to the bargain, and seventy more on the day that you bring home the bride."

"yes! that sounds simple enough. but now tell me the hitch."

"the hitch?"

"yes. the hitch which forces you to ask a blackguard like myself to do the work for you. why do you not become the happy man yourself for instance?"

"oh! i am not young enough, nor yet well-favoured. the first fifty thousand pounds will help to make of you the most dashing gallant in the two kingdoms."

"but why a blackguard?" persisted michael with cutting sarcasm. he felt agitated, even strangely excited. he was shrewd enough to see that sir john was not fooling him, that there was more than a mere undercurrent of seriousness in this extraordinary offer made across this common supper table. his fingers were beating an incessant tattoo upon the boards, and his eyes restless, keen as those of a wild beast scenting a trap, searched the face of his interlocutor.

"why a blackguard if the wench is a saint as you say, why a blackguard?" he insisted.

"a blackguard? perish the thought!" said sir john lightly. "nay! the reason why your personality com[115]mended itself to me and to my lord of stowmaries was because you are a gentleman, despite the many vicissitudes of an adverse fate, and that you would render the girl happy and proud to be your wife."

"ah! my worthy cousin is a party to this game?" queried michael with a sneer.

"in heaven's name, man," he added with almost savage impatience, "why cannot you speak up like a man? cards on the table, by the mass, or my hand will come in contact with your mealy mouth—"

he checked himself, angry at his own outburst of rage which he had been unable to control.

"have i not said that i am on my way to hell," he added more quietly, "why should you hesitate to show me a short cut?"

"cards on the table, friend michael, since you'll have it so," now said ayloffe in a quiet impressive whisper, "bear that one hundred and twenty thousand pounds in your mind all the while you listen to me. the wench over in paris was made to go through a marriage ceremony with your cousin here, eighteen years ago, when she was a babe in arms and he a mere lad, unable to defend himself against this encroachment on his future liberty. since then my lord of stowmaries has never met his bride, nor did her parents—worthy yet mercenary tradespeople of paris—desire him to see their daughter. he was poor rupert kestyon then, an undesirable son-in-law if ever there was one: they would have broken the marriage then, only the church would not allow it. then my lord became what he now is, rich, influential, desirable, and promptly the paris shopkeepers changed their tactics. they demanded that your cousin shall acknowledge and take to his heart and[116] home a woman whom he has never seen, whom he can never love; for the affection of his heart, of his whole manhood is pledged to another whom he adores. in his despair my lord hath come to me and i am proud to be his friend. i would help him to regain that liberty which an untoward fate hath fettered. is not my lord a wholly innocent victim? he did not ask to wed—for long he was spurned as one unworthy. now because he is rich, he is to be made the tool of rapacious bourgeois, who would see their daughter countess of stowmaries. they have invoked the aid of the church who spurred by their gold hath threatened anathema and excommunication on my lord. the king—sorely inclined to catholicism—will not hear of breaking marriage vows which he calls solemn, and which under such circumstances sensible men cannot fail to call a farce. my lord hath come to me and i have thought of a scheme—"

so far michael had listened with unswerving attention to this long exposé delivered by sir john in clear, even voice that was hardly raised above a whisper. he had listened, his head resting in his right hand, his left lying clenched and motionless on the table. but now he interrupted ayloffe's placid flow of eloquence.

"you need not tell me your scheme, man," he said, "i have guessed it already. i know now why you had need of a rogue for the furtherance of your project. i, michael kestyon, am to go to paris and there impersonate my love-sick cousin, carry away the bride by that trick, and thus forever so shame her, that a dissolution of that child-marriage will readily be granted by church and state."

"and that for the sum of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds, friend michael! one hundred and twenty[117] thousand pounds—a fortune that would tempt a king!" added sir john earnestly.

michael made no comment, and there was thus an instant's silence at this end of the table where sat the three men: only a second or two mayhap during which a blasphemous oath uttered at the further end of the room seemed in some strange and occult way to mark the descent of a soul one step further down on its way to hell. one instant during which the tempter watched the tempted, and from the giddy heights of future satisfied ambition showed him the world conquered at the paltry price of momentary dishonour.

one fitful ray of a ghoulish moon searched, through a narrow slit between swishing curtains, the fleshy face of ayloffe, the descendant of the hebrew bondswoman; the thickly-lidded eyes fixed like those of some poison-giving reptile upon the trapped victim. it played weird and ghost-like upon the dull scarlet of his cloak, and made strange shadows beneath his heavy brows, giving him an eerie, satanic expression, which stowmaries—whose brain was on fire—was quick to note.

he shuddered and instinctively drew away. but michael keyston who had not stirred a muscle, who had scarce breathed during that moment's solemn pause, now leaned forward and said quietly:

"for the sum of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds, i will do what you wish."

then noting that the look of satisfaction on stowmaries' face was not wholly unmixed with contempt, he added with a quick return to his flippant mood:

"nay, cousin, look not so loftily from adown the giddy heights of supposed integrity. 'tis useless at this stage to[118] despise the hand that will help you in your need. methinks that my share in the intrigue is no more unavowable than your own. 'tis you are married to the lady and owe her protection, yet you offer money to further treachery against her. now i have never seen the wench and am no traitor to her since i do not know her. i owe her no allegiance; she is but one woman out of a million to me. have you never tried to win a woman by trickery, good coz?"

he spoke lightly, even gaily, only sir john—the keen observer of his fellowmen—noted that the laugh which accompanied this tirade had a hollow ring in it, also that michael after he had spoken drank down one after another two large goblets full of wine.

"do not let us split hairs, gentlemen, over the meaning of a word," said ayloffe pleasantly. "friend michael, my hand on it. i devised the scheme, and confess that my thoughts flew to you for its accomplishment." he put out his hand, but michael seemed to ignore the gesture. with a shrug of the shoulders indicating good-tempered toleration, the other continued glibly, "let us own to it, gentlemen, we are all rogues, every one of us here present; i, who made the proposal, my lord of stowmaries who pays the piper, and michael who takes a fortune in exchange for a trick. bah, gentlemen, 'tis but a merry jest, and, on my honour, no harm can come to any one. is not michael kestyon henceforth rich, as well as highly-connected and amiable of mien. by gad the practised hand of his future father-in-law together with that of a court barber, would soon turn him into the most gallant gentleman in the two kingdoms."

"a truce on this nonsense," interposed michael with a quick return to his impatient mood. "tell me what you expect me to do, and i'll do it; but there's no cause for[119] such empty talk. i am being paid to act and not to listen."

"we'll be serious, old sobersides," quoth sir john with imperturbable good humour, "and think of the best schemes to bring our scheme to a successful issue. my lord of stowmaries, have i your leave to place the details of our plan before our friend here?"

scarce waiting for the impatient assent of the other, ayloffe continued, speaking directly to michael:

"firstly, then: to-morrow as soon as the shopkeepers have taken down their shutters you shall go to the king's tailor in holborn and there order yourself various suits of clothes, befitting the many occasions when you shall have need of them in paris and on your honeymoon. once the bargain sealed between us, by word of honour as between gentlemen, your gracious cousin will place fifty thousand pounds in your hands. you will be a rich man to-morrow, friend michael, and can attire yourself in accordance with your whim. from the tailor's in holborn you had best proceed to the barber's in fleet street, who will provide you with the most fashionable perruques—"

"i know all that, man," interrupted michael with ever-growing impatience. "i know that the monkey hath to be tricked out for parade. when i have been made to look like a fool in motley garb, what further shall i do?"

"you'll hie over to france as soon as may be; for already at break of day to-morrow you—in your temporary name of earl of stowmaries—will write a letter to m. legros, merchant tailor of paris apprising him of your intentions no longer to disobey the decrees of the church, or the dictates of your own heart, which of a truth has ever been true to your baby bride; also you will tell him of your desire to proceed forthwith to paris in order to claim your wife, to have the marriage ceremony of eighteen years ago[120] formally ratified and finally to bring her back in state and solemnity to her new home in england."

"am i to write all these lies myself?" asked michael.

"nay! i'll constitute myself your secretary," replied ayloffe, "you need only to sign 'stowmaries.' as i mistake not, 'tis a name you would gladly sign always, 'twill not come amiss for once. you may have to sign papers over there, 'twere better that your handwriting be known at once."

"when do i start for paris?"

"what say you to a fortnight's hence from this day? 'twill give you ample time for the completion of your toilet. an you will allow me i will provide you with a retinue worthy of your rank. it must be composed of men whom we can trust, and men who do not know my lord of stowmaries by sight and are not like to guess that something is amiss. three will be sufficient. i will engage them at the last, so that there may be no fear of our secret reaching their knowledge."

"clothes, men, money," quoth michael, "methinks, sir john, you have thought of everything. once i am in paris?"

"you will act as judgment guides you."

"and no doubt seventy thousand pounds is a good guide to judgment."

michael's somewhat defiant manner seemed completely to have vanished. he appeared to be yielding himself quite freely to the delights of the promised adventure; at least this was what good sir john hoped whilst congratulating himself on the remarkable attainment of his fondly-cherished desire.

but remember that this same good sir john was no superficial observer of human nature. he was not altogether[121] deceived by michael's outward show of flippancy. that excitement had got hold of the adventurer's imagination was undoubted and probably the obstinacy of an untamed nature would prevent his drawing back from a promise once given.

at the same time the glint of excitement in michael's eyes had but little genuine merriment in it. it was more like the unnatural fire produced by fever-heated blood.

it was the money which had tempted michael—so concluded ayloffe in his own mind. the money which mayhap would help the claimant to bring forward his cause once again into the light of day. money which would mean bribes, high enough to tempt corrupt judges or even—who knows—a pleasure-loving king.

what michael thought of the adventure itself, what it cost him to acquiesce in it with an outward show of careless gaiety even the astute sir john could not have said: he himself had achieved his own ends and personally he cared little what michael felt so long as the young man fulfilled his share of the ignoble contract.

was it so ignoble after all? sir john with a smile of self-contempt found himself wondering in his mind whether any one would indeed be the loser by it. stowmaries? certainly not!—he could well afford to pay twice a hundred thousand pounds for the gratification of his most ardent desire: his freedom to marry the woman whom he loved. michael?—of a truth michael would lose a little more self-respect than he had already done, but then he must have so little left—and he would become passing rich.

as for the tailor's wench, bah!—one husband was as good as another, concluded sir john with a splendid cynicism, and if michael kestyon was not actually earl of stowmaries, by gad he was mighty near to it, and—who knows?—with[122] one hundred and twenty thousand pounds in his pocket might yet oust his cousin from that enviable state.

and he—sir john ayloffe—gambler on his beam ends, would henceforth look forward to a comfortable old age with mistress julia peyton's twelve thousand pounds carefully placed at interest so that there might be no temptation to dribble it away.

all was for the best in the best possible world!