It was half a threat, and Gurth felt it. In his own mind he believed that Marston was still an adventurer, and that his house of cards would soon come to grief. He had an idea that money could do anything, and he was quite prepared to find Marston throwing ont a hint that he would leave the field clear for a consideration. The conversation of the morning had invested Ruth with new charms, and the sudden opposition which he had encountered in Marston had concentrated his designs. Ruth Adrian now became the central figure in his future. The idea of Marston daring to stop between him and the accomplishment of his project was too absurd. He would soon put that right. ‘Threaten me, do you!’ he muttered to himself, as he turned towards home. ‘Mr. Edward Marston, you must be looked after. Birds that want to fly over their neighbours’ walls must have their wings clipped.’ Pending an opportunity of becoming better acquainted with Ruth Adrian, Gurth occupied himself by developing his bump of curiosity. He was particularly anxious to discover the history of Mr. Edward Marston from the time he went to America, a broken-down adventurer, to the period of his recognition of Dr. Birnie, and his sudden blooming into the possessor of a suburban villa, a boundless ambition, and a remarkably handsome and agreeable sweetheart. Was she his sweetheart? On mature consideration, Gurth Egerton decided that he had been taken in by Marston’s brag. The idea of his really being a man of wealth and engaged to a lady like Ruth was too absurd. ‘Marston’s a clever fellow,’ he said to himself, ‘and as unscrupulous as any man I ever knew; but I don’t think I need trouble myself much about his opposition. He always was a braggart, and I dare say he’s only trying to impose on me for some purpose of his own.’ A week later Gurth Egerton had managed to render Ruth a service, and to become a welcome guest at the house. He had heard a portion of Gertie’s story from Ruth, and had undertaken to see Heckett and secure from him an undertaking to leave the child unmolested in the care of her new friends. Ruth was very grateful for this service; she had hesitated to ask Marston, and she had not dared herself to open negotiations, as that would have at once revealed the child’s whereabouts. Gurth had gone himself to Heckett, to the only address he knew, the Little Queer Street one, and had found the place shut up. He inquired of Birnie, but that gentleman could tell him nothing. For some reason or other Mr. Heckett had cut all his old acquaintances. Gurth was determined to know if possible, so he ascertained Marston’s address and went round to him. He was struck with the comfort and taste of Eden Villa, and he began to think that perhaps, after all, Marston had had a windfall. He was received with easy courtesy, and Marston rather enjoyed the astonishment under which his visitor was evidently labouring.