‘Mr Farrell,’ cried Iris, turning very white, as she clutched his arm, ‘it was not _Godfrey_ who did it?’ ‘It certainly was, Miss Douglas.’ ‘Oh, no, no! He is very bad. He is cruel and false and ungenerous, I know, but _surely_ he never committed such an awful crime.’ ‘Miss Douglas, Harland was the forger of that cheque, as sure as we sit here. He has never denied it to me. He _cannot_. There were but two of us who _could_ have done it--he and myself--and _I_ know that it was not I.’ ‘But how could he escape?’ ‘He bolted to America, leaving a very cleverly-concocted letter behind him to say that he knew that the suspicion would falsely fall upon himself, and that he was unable either to bear such a calumny, or turn Queen’s evidence against one whom he had treated as a friend. And by the time the letter was received, he was clear off under an assumed name, having left part of the receipts for the forged cheque (which he sent _me_ to cash) in my desk, where, to my utter amazement, they were found, rolled up in some old bills. Suspicion, of course, fell upon me, but Cain’s conduct in running away was so mysterious, that we were considered to be partners in crime, and as Mr Starling, for his old friend’s sake, would institute no proceedings against Horace, he refused also to prosecute me. But he turned me out of his office without a character, and a stain upon my name, and the curse has followed me ever since. I have tried again and again, Miss Douglas, to procure permanent employment. I have even stooped to menial service, with the same result. I get on well; I grow in favour with my employers; I work hard--and then, just as I am rising to something better, the curse comes down upon me, the old lie crops up. I am dubbed as a suspected _forger_, and dismissed without ceremony. It is this that sickened me of trying to live in England, and determined me to try my fortune in another land. In New Zealand the old story may be forgotten, and, if not, I shall find others as bad as myself. And now you know, Miss Douglas, why I _hate_ Godfrey Harland. I met him before we started, and warned him not to come near me during the voyage. He has chosen to disregard that warning, and we have had a quarrel over it. If he does it a second time, I have threatened to expose him to the whole ship’s company, and I will keep my word. I will yet pay Horace Cain out for the cruel turn he did me years ago.’ ‘Oh, Mr Farrell, don’t say that!’ exclaimed Iris, who had grown as white as a sheet as she listened to the disgraceful story. ‘Hard as it is for me to say it, remember he is my husband, and I am bound to live with him. For God’s sake don’t make my position worse than it need be. I can’t tell you how I dread the prospect now. But as the wife of _a forger_! Oh, heavens! it is too much, even for _me_ to bear!’ And she drooped her head upon the table and buried her face in her hands.