"My dear Lord Blackborough," said Mr. Hirsch, with a curious smile as he arose and pulled down his white waistcoat, "I never deal in suppositions. As a business man, I can't afford it. I know this has been worrying Sir Geoffrey, who has old-fashioned ideas of responsibility, but--ah! here he comes. I was just saying, sir, how disturbed you were this morning about the slight alarm at the Seaview last night. But, as I told you, it really lessens the odds of its occurring again. To make any fuss just at present, when you need to get all the money you can in order to start the thing fair, would be suicidal. I don't, in fact, see that we are bound to do any more than we are doing. There is a certain risk in all large buildings as badly supplied with water as this one is. But surely one must credit people with eyes. _Caveat Emptor!_ Lord Blackborough, _Caveat Emptor!_ That immoral but comfortable piece of wisdom is the backbone of all reasonable speculation. Good-night. If I may, I'll have some whisky and water in the billiard room on my way upstairs." Ned came back from the door and looked at his uncle. "Well, sir," he said, "what is to be done?" Sir Geoffrey's face was a study of irresolution. "Let's leave it till to-morrow, Ned," he said at last; "the night will bring wisdom. But I expect Hirsch is right. He has a wonderfully clear head; and I only wish that Helen----" "I would leave Helen out of the business if I were you, sir," interrupted Ned angrily. It was intolerable to think of her as possible part payment. As he lit his candle and made his way to the old wing, "among the ruins," as she called it, he told himself that he had half a mind to buy out all other interests and spend an extra thousand or two in throwing the whole gim-crack building over the cliffs. And it was all so useless! Helen didn't want the money; she was craving to live on an hospital nurse's pay. "Ned," said a voice at the door, just as he had taken off his coat, "let me in, please, I must see you." It was Helen herself. Her eyes were blazing bright, her face was pale. She had flung a white shawl over her bare shoulders, yet she shivered. "Ned," she said swiftly, "thank God you're here! You must come with me--you will, won't you? Put on your thick shoes and come as you are. It is quite warm--there is only a fog." "Come," he echoed, "come where?" She seemed a trifle confused, and passed her hand over her forehead. "Down to the point, of course; they must be warned----" "Warned of what? What have you heard?" "I didn't hear, I saw. Ah! do come quick, I ought to be there, you know, showing a light." She spoke in curiously even tones, and for an instant Ned thought she was sleep-walking or dreaming. One of those deadly dreams of excessive hurry in which, no matter what you do, thought leaves the labouring body far behind. "You saw it! But where, and what?"