“Then the least you can do is to dismiss him,” resumed Mr. Horner. But Mr. Boniface interrupted him very sharply. “You will please remember, James, that you are in no way concerned with the engagement or dismissal of those employed in this house. That is entirely my affair, as is set forth in our deed of partnership.” “Which partnership will need renewing in another six months,” said Mr. Horner, growing red with anger. “And I give you fair warning that, if this dishonest fellow is kept on, I shall then withdraw my capital and retire from the business.” With this Parthian shot he went out, banging the door behind him. Frithiof had borne in silence all the taunts and insults showered on him; but when he found himself alone with the man to whom he owed so much, he very nearly broke down altogether. “Sir,” he said, trying in vain to govern his voice, “you have been very good to me; but it will be best that I should go.” “I would not have you leave for the world,” said Mr. Boniface. “Remember that your sisters are dependent on you. You must think first of them.” “No,” said Frithiof firmly; “I must first think of what I owe to you. It would be intolerable to me to feel that I had brought any loss on you through Mr. Horner’s anger. I must go.” “Nonsense,” said Mr. Boniface. “I cannot hear of such a thing. Why, how do you think you would get another situation with this mystery still hanging over you? I, who know you so well, am convinced of your perfect freedom from blame. But strangers could not possibly be convinced of it.” Frithiof was silent; he thought of Sigrid and Swanhild suffering through his trouble, he remembered his terrible search for work when he first came to London, and he realized that it was chiefly his own pride that prompted him never to return to the shop. After all, what a prospect it was! With one partner deeming him a thief and the other forced to say that he must be subject to a form of insanity; with the men employed in the shop all ready to deem him a dishonest foreigner! How was he to bear such a terrible position? Yet bear it he must; nay, he must be thankful for the chance of being allowed to bear it. “If you are indeed willing that I should stay,” he said, at length, “then I will stay. But your theory—the theory that makes you willing still to trust me—is mistaken. I know that there is not a minute in this day when my head has not been perfectly clear.” “My dear fellow, you must allow me to keep what theory I please. There is no other explanation than this, and you would be wisest if you accepted it yourself.” “That is impossible,” said Frithiof sadly. “It is equally impossible that I can doubt the evidence of my own senses. The note was there, and you can’t possibly explain its presence. How is it possible that Darnell could have crossed over to your till, taken out the note and pinned it in your pocket? Besides, what motive could he have for doing such a thing?”