"Do?" he said bitterly. "All that is a heritage: mine to hold in trust for my son--his after my death to hold in trust for the generations to come. Burdon, it is an incubus--a curse; but I have my duty to do: that old gold shall not be wasted on a--" STORY TWO, CHAPTER NINE. MR BARCLAY GOES TOO FAR. When young Mr Barclay-- Stop! How do I know all this? Why, it was burned into my memory, and I heard every word from him. When young Mr Barclay left the dining-room on the night he disappeared, he went up to his own room, miserable at his position with his father, and taking to himself the blame for the unhappiness that he had brought upon the girl who loved him with all her sweet true heart. "But it's fate--it's fate," he said, as he went up to his room; and then, unable to settle himself there, he lit a cigar, came down, and went out just as he was dressed in his evening clothes, only that he had put on a light overcoat, and began to walk up and down in front of our house and watch the windows opposite, to try and catch a glimpse of Miss Adela. Ten o'clock, eleven, struck, but she did not show herself at the window; and feeling quite sick at heart, he was thinking of going in again, when he suddenly heard a faint cough, about twenty yards away; and turning sharply, he saw the lady he was looking for crossing the road, having evidently just come back from some visit. "Adela--at last," he whispered as he caught her hand. "Mr Drinkwater!" she cried in a startled way. "How you frightened me!" "Love makes men fools," said Mr Barclay, as he slipped into her home ere she could close the door. "Now take me in and introduce me to your sisters." "Adela, is that you? Here, for goodness' sake. Why don't you answer?" "Is she there?" The first was a rough man's voice, the next that of a woman, and as they were heard in the passage, another voice cried hoarsely: "It's of no use: the game's up." "Hist! Hide! Behind that curtain! Anywhere!" panted Adela, starting up in alarm. "Too late!" Barclay had sprung to his feet, and stood staring in amazement, and perfectly heedless of the girl's appeal to him to hide, as two rough bricklayer-like men came in, followed by a woman. "Will you let me pass?" cried Mr Barclay.--"Miss Mimpriss, I beg your pardon for this intrusion. Forgive me, and good-night." One man gave the other a quick look, and as Mr Barclay tried to pass, they closed with him, and, in spite of his struggles, bore him back from the door. The next moment, though, he recovered his lost ground, and would have shaken himself free, but the sour-looking woman who had entered with the two men watched her opportunity, got behind, flung her arms about the young man's neck, and he was dragged heavily to the floor, where, as he lay half stunned, he saw Adela gazing at him with her brows knit, and then, without a word of protest, she hurried from the room.