Sad to relate, neither Thibout nor Moinard was ended. The guillotine stood on its rights. Meantime, what was left of them crawled back to the town stiff and sore, and supped together--Moinard on liquids only--and vowed revenge on all wrecked people. The three reached Boulogne in time for the _Nancy,_ and put Dodd on board: the pair decided to go to the Yankee Paradise--Paris. They parted with regret and tenderly, like old tried friends; and Vespasian told Dodd, with tears in his eyes, that though he was in point of fact only a darned Anemo, he felt like a coloured gemman at parting from his dear old Captain. The master of the _Nancy_ knew Dodd well, and gave him a nice cot to sleep in. He tumbled in with a bad headache and quite worn out, and never woke for fifteen hours. And when he did wake, he was safe at Barkington. He and It landed on the quay. He made for home. On the way he passed Hardie's bank, a firm synonymous in his mind with the Bank of England. A thrill of joy went through him. Now it _was_ safe. When he first sewed It on in China, It seemed secure nowhere except on his own person. But since then, the manifold perils by sea and land It had encountered through being on him, had caused a strong reaction in his mind on that point. He longed to see It safe out of his own hands and in good custody. He made for Hardie's door with a joyful rush, waved his cap over his head in triumph, and entered the bank with It. Ah! CHAPTER XV CHRONOLOGY.--The Hard Cash sailed from Canton months before the boat race at Henley recorded in Chapter I., but it landed in Barkington a fortnight after the last home event I recorded in its true series. Now this fortnight, as it happens, was fruitful of incidents, and must be dealt with at once. After that, “Love” and “Cash,” the converging branches of this story, will flow together in one stream. Alfred Hardie kept faith with Mrs. Dodd, and, by an effort she appreciated, forbore to express his love for Julia except by the pen. He took in Lloyd's shipping news, and got it down by rail, in hopes there would be something about the _Agra;_ then he could call at Albion Villa. Mrs. Dodd had given him that loophole: meantime he kept moping for an invitation, which never came. Julia was now comparatively happy, and so indeed was Alfred; but then the male of our species likes to be superlatively happy, not comparatively; and that Mrs. Dodd forgot or perhaps had not observed. One day Sampson was at Albion Villa, and Alfred knew it. Now, though it was a point of honour with poor Alfred not to hang about after Julia until her father's return, he had a perfect right to lay in wait for Sampson and hear something about her; and he was so deep in love that even a word at second-hand from her lips was a drop of dew to his heart.