"Well, you've completely frightened me," said Beresford. "I'll get home to bed, and try and forget it in sleep. Are you coming, Simnel? Good night, doctor." And the two gentlemen went out together, leaving the little doctor already sidling up to another group. When they were out in the street, and had started on their homeward walk, Simnel said to his companion: "That was strange news we've just heard." "Strange, indeed," replied Beresford. "Do you think the doctor's right?" "Not a doubt of it; he's a garrulous idiot; as full of talk as an old woman; but I have always heard very skilful in his profession, and in this special disease I believe there are none to beat him. Oh, yes, he's right enough. Well, you always held winning cards, and now the game looks like yours." "Simnel," said Beresford, stopping short and looking up into his face, "what the devil do you mean?" "Mean!" echoed Simnel; "I'll tell you when you come on; it's cold stopping still in the streets, and the policeman at the corner is staring at you in unmitigated wonder. Mean!" he repeated, as they walked on; "well, it's not a very difficult matter to explain. You hear that Schröder has heart-disease--that at any moment he may die. You always had a partiality for Mrs. Schröder, I believe; and if there be any truth in what I gather from yourself and others, you stand very well with her." "Well?" "Well! You're dense to-night, Master Charley. Well? Why, you've as great a chance as man ever had before you. You've only to wait until what Prater told us of happens,--and if he's right, it won't be long,--and then marry the widow and start as a millionaire." "By Jove, it _is_ a great chance!" said Beresford, looking at his friend. "And yet you didn't see it until just now. Why, it opened straight up in front of me the instant that chattering medico mentioned the fact. If you play your cards well, you're all right; but remember, flirtation and courtship are two different things, and must be managed differently. And recollect it's for the latter you're now going in. Now, here's my street, so adieu. Sleep on this matter, and we'll talk of it to-morrow morning." "It's a tremendous fluke," said Mr. Simnel, as he leisurely undressed himself; "but it will serve my purpose admirably. That eight hundred pounds of mine lent to Master Charley looks much less shaky than it did, and what a trump-card to play with Kate!" CHAPTER XXII. MR. SIMNEL AT THE DEN.