"Speculations, and that," explained Hopper. "Lots of folks do the same nowadays, more than the world knows of. If successful, they grow into millionaires, and their friends can't make out how; if non-successful, there comes a smash. Ask him, sir, whether it's not all true that I have told you. I saw him come up that path a few minutes ago." Sir Simon Orville had no need to ask. A conviction that the man did indeed speak truth was within him, sure and certain as a light of revelation. He followed Mr. Trace to his chamber and accused him, speaking quietly and sadly; and Mr. Trace finding that Hopper was below, felt scared out of his senses. The time for denial was past: Robert Trace, believing himself overtaken by the destiny that seemed so long to have been pursuing him, did not attempt to make any. Sir Simon, locked in with him, saw how it was—that the hunted man was, and had been all these years, at his ex-clerk's mercy. "I never intended to accuse Paradyne," said Mr. Trace with abject lips. "Loftus got meddling with the accounts, a thing he had not done for years, and found something was wrong. For appearance sake, I was obliged to go through the books with him; and then to agree with him that fraud must be at work. It was Loftus who accused Paradyne; there was no one else whom it was possible to suspect; it was Loftus who ordered him to be taken into custody: and I could not say the man was innocent without betraying myself. Then came Paradyne's sudden death, and I let the onus of guilt rest upon him." Sir Simon interposed with but one question. "What became of the money?" "Private speculations," answered Robert Trace. "There you have the whole." Yes; Sir Simon had the whole, and now, a little later in the day, Raymond Trace had it. Mr. Trace had made his escape from the house at the dusk hour, while Hopper was still detained with Sir Simon. Hopper showed every wish, as far as hints could show, to compromise the affair; meaning, that for a sum of money he would hush up Mr. Trace's part in it. Sir Simon dismissed him when Raymond entered: Mr. Hopper gave his address at the inn, and went away in confidence; leaving, as he supposed, Mr. Trace the elder and Sir Simon to talk over any offer they might feel inclined to make him. Sir Simon disclosed the whole to Raymond: there was no possibility of its being kept from him. The boy—if it be not wrong to call him so—sat very still on a low chair, feeling as if the world, and everything in it bright, and honest, and desirable, were closing to him. If ever a spirit was flung suddenly down on its beam-end from an exalted pinnacle, it was that of Raymond Trace. "You cannot go in for the Orville now, Raymond," said Sir Simon to him in a low tone, breaking a long and miserable pause. Raymond glanced slightly up. "I have gone in for it. And gained it." "My boy, you know what I mean. You must give up the gain."