"Cynthia--surely you don't mean--" Lord Harrowby was pleading. "I do, Allan," said the girl more gently. "It was true--what I told you--there by the window. It is better--father! Will you go down and--say--I'm not to be married, after all?" Spencer Meyrick nodded, and turned toward the door. "Cynthia," cried Harrowby brokenly. There was no reply. Old Meyrick went out. "I'm sorry," his lordship said. "Sorry I made such a mess of it--the more so because I love you, Cynthia--and always shall. Good-by." He held out his hand. She put hers in it. "It's too bad, Allan," she said. "But--it wasn't to be. And, even now, you have one consolation--the money that Lloyds must pay you." "The money means nothing, Cynthia--" "Miss Meyrick is mistaken," Minot interrupted. "Lord Harrowby has not even that consolation. Lloyds owes him nothing." "Why not?" asked the girl defiantly. "Up to an hour ago," said Minot, "you were determined to marry his lordship?" "I should hardly put it that way. But--I intended to." "Yes. Then you changed your mind. Why?" "I changed it because I found out about this ridiculous, this insulting policy." "Then his lordship's taking out of the policy caused the calling off of the wedding?" "Y--yes. Why?" "It may interest you to know--and it may interest Lord Harrowby to recall--that five minutes before he took out this policy he signed an agreement to do everything in his power to bring about the wedding. And he further promised that if the wedding should be called off because of any subsequent act of his, he would forfeit the premium." "By gad," said Lord Harrowby. "The taking out of the policy was a subsequent act," continued Minot. "The premium, I fancy, is forfeited." "He's got you, Allan," said George Harrowby, coming forward, "and I for one can't say I'm sorry. You're going to tear up that policy now--and go to work for me." "I for one am sorry," cried Miss Meyrick, her flashing eyes on Minot. "I wanted you to win, Allan. I wanted you to win." "Why?" Minot asked innocently. "You ought to know," she answered, and turned away. Lord Harrowby moved toward the door. "We're not hard losers," he said blankly. "But--everything's gone--it's a bit of a smash-up. Good-by, Cynthia." "Good-by, Allan--and good luck." "Thanks." And Harrowby went out with his brother. Minot stood for a time, not daring to move. Cynthia Meyrick was at the window; her scornful back was not encouraging. Finally she turned, saw Minot and gave a start of surprise. "Oh--you're still here?" "Cynthia, now you understand," he said. "You know why I acted as I did. You realize my position. I was in a horrible fix--" She looked at him coldly. "Yes," she said, "I do understand. You were gambling on me. You came down here to defend your employer's cash. Well, you have succeeded. Is there anything more to be said?" "Isn't there? On the ramparts of the old fort the other night--"