Godfrey Harland, as he strolled away and thought over the interview, felt very uncomfortable about it. It was an unlucky star that had placed Will Farrell, of all men in the world, on board the _Pandora_, with himself. If he had only had the good fortune to sail before or after him, he need never have known he was in the same country. He was almost tempted to get up some illness on the part of himself or a near relation as an excuse to change his ticket and follow the Vansittarts by another vessel. But England was becoming dangerous ground for him. The delay of a fortnight might render him unable to leave it at all. He stood between two fires. He saw his creditors pressing on him on one side, and Will Farrell denouncing his past character on the other, and he decided that Farrell was the least dangerous enemy of the two. He had not the same motive for betraying him. He would gain nothing himself by raking up the old scandal, and to hold his tongue might prove a benefit to him. Harland would occupy a good position in the new country, and be able to help Farrell on. The man would see that when he sat down to reason calmly. And so he determined to think as little of the unpleasant _contretemps_ as he might. Yet it haunted him throughout the day, and made his future look far less bright than it had done. He was bound to encounter his wife, too, that evening, and he wished the ordeal was over. He had an excellent story to tell her, but it required a large amount of Dutch courage to go through with it. So that Godfrey Harland had drank a great deal more than was good for him when he stumbled up the steps of his own house that evening. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER VI. A WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING.