Mr. Trace was standing up, looking like a man scared out of his senses. "Is—Hopper—saved?" he gasped, rather than asked. "I don't know," answered Raymond. "Who is Hopper?" "And if he is?—you need not be afraid of him over here!" cried Sir Simon, wondering at the emotion displayed. "It is your father's former clerk at Liverpool that we are speaking of, Raymond," he added to the son. "The man went over to Boston, got put into a good thing there by your father, which failed; and then he began to worry him for money. Let him come and worry here! We'll teach him that England is not without laws, if America is." Raymond, all curiosity, questioned further, and Mr. Trace could not put a stop to Sir Simon's answers; though it seemed that he would have done it, had there been a decent plea. There was not time for much; Raymond was unable to stay: but for the peremptory message, he would not have come out at all that busy evening. Mr. Trace put his hat on to walk part of the way with his son. They struck into the plantation, arm in arm: it was the shortest way; and the moon glimmered cheerily through the trees. "You are as tall as I am, Raymond," observed Mr. Trace. "And that's not very tall; I hope to shoot up yet," answered Raymond. "You should see Bertie Loftus. But it seems to me that you have grown shorter." "As we all do, when age and care come upon us," remarked Mr. Trace. And, with that, he relapsed into silence. "I hope you have come back rich, sir," resumed Raymond presently, in a tone of half jest, half earnest. "I have come back not worth a shilling, Raymond," said Mr. Trace, momentarily halting as if to give emphasis to his words. "All I had of my own, all I borrowed from your uncle, is lost." Something like an ice-shaft shot through Raymond in his bitter disappointment. During this many, many months' silence of his father's, fond visions had dawned over him of his coming back a millionaire. "How is it lost?" he asked, when the shock allowed him to speak. "Oh! in those American securities, and in unlucky speculations. I was not clever enough for the Yankees, you see." "What was my uncle saying about Hopper? I did not understand him." "He says that Hopper's saved; whereas I had thought he was drowned." "I meant, sir, about his worrying you. But he did not say Hopper was saved; only that he might be." "Raymond, as surely as that I see those trees around us, so surely do I see that the man's saved." "And what if he is?" "Why, he has it in his power to do me injury." "Of what nature, sir?" Mr. Trace looked upwards, as if searching, for an answer. It was a remarkably bright night, and the moonbeams sent a radiance on the glass of the spectacles. "He says I owe him money, Raymond; he might pursue me for it, I suppose, in this country, and give me a world of trouble. Do you recollect him?" "Pretty well. I have a sort of general recollection of him."