“I was in the train,” said Rowton, speaking slowly, and raising his eyes until their full insolent light was fixed intensely upon Long John’s face; “I was in the train which ran from Madrid to Paris, and the bonds were there; but the work given me to do was dirty, defiling, dangerous. I thought I had done enough—in short, I did not execute my commission.” “Your reason?” said Piper in a low voice. “Quite simple, and I am not afraid to state it,” replied Rowton. “I saw plainly that were I to pursue the business in connection with those special bonds, although my confederate Spider might escape, my own life would be the forfeit.” “Spider—by the way, where is Spider?” asked Scrivener. “I left him in Spain—he is all right.” “And so you feared your life would be the forfeit?” snarled Piper. “Yes.” “Well, and what of it, you dog?” “Everything—to myself,” replied Rowton. “I don’t choose to die. I—if you like the word, I will use it—I _funked_ that part of my expedition.” An incredulous and amazed look filled the eyes of every man in the room. Even Long John’s eyes leapt for a moment with an expression almost of compassion; then they fixed themselves in a stony stare on Rowton’s proud face. “It is not like you, Silver, to be a coward,” he said then; “the word fits you badly. You were always our dare-devil; no danger was too hot for you. Why do you come back to us with the story of a sneak? I repeat, it is not like you.” “I did not secure the bonds,” continued Rowton, speaking in a steady and absolutely quiet voice, “for the simple reason that, had I done so, my own life would have been the forfeit. I do not choose now to throw away my life.” “And why now, if I may venture to ask the question of your mightiness?” snapped Piper. “Because I have got a wife, and I do not intend her to become a widow.” Something like a groan was heard throughout the room. It was more than evident that no one present sympathised with Rowton. After a pause he said abruptly, rising as he spoke: “You must get another man for that part of the business. I distinctly refuse to commit myself in the matter. My life is of moment to me.” “Coward!” growled one or two. “You may taunt me with that word if you like, my good fellows,” said Rowton, looking down the room as he spoke. “Your taunts will not in the least affect me, or turn me from my set purpose. I am willing to go into danger for your cause, but into absolute and certain defeat I no longer venture. My wife is much more valuable to me than the opinions of the Silver Mob. Now, Piper, in bringing you the diamonds, I have, I think, executed my orders as fully as I can execute them. Here is the money for the black diamond. When I deliver over the packet which contains the diamonds in the rough, to Scrivener and Simpkins, I shall feel that I have earned a holiday. I am anxious to return to Rowton Heights early to-morrow morning. Have you anything further to say?”