“N-no, we didn’t quarrel,” said Dick. “There was a little plain speaking, but I think it cleared the air, and, after all, that was what I came for. He is dismissing Gilder to-morrow.” She was silent at this, and did not speak again until they were on the road. “Is that wise?” she asked. “I’m a little afraid of the man. I feel he would be a very bad enemy.” She heard his soft laugh and felt reassured. “He’s that all right,” said Dick; “the worst enemy any man could have, I should imagine. But an enemy is only dangerous in ratio to his hurting power. I don’t think Mr. Gilder will hurt anybody.” “Not Arthur?” she asked. “Not Arthur, and certainly not you.” She squeezed his arm in hers. “You’d be a wonderful brother,” she said. “I am,” he said curtly, and she smiled in the darkness. “Your handsome relative asked me to persuade you to marry next month, and I told him point-blank that I would do nothing of the kind. Leslie, do you know that you never see Harry from one week-end to another?” She had realized that for a long time, and it was a constant subject for self-reproach that she had less and less desire for her fiancé’s society. “He is really not interested in me, Dick,” she said. “Harry is so absorbed in his treasure hunt and his queer chase after the elixir of life----” “He’s told you that, has he?” asked Dick quickly. “Why, of course!” she scoffed. “Do you know, Dick, he has almost convinced me that there is something in his idea?” She waited for him to reply. “Don’t you think so?” “In the Life Water… perhaps there is.” “And in the treasure?” she asked. “Maybe. Generations of Chelfords have hunted for that wretched gold, and I suppose in the past four hundred years almost as much money has been spent in the search as the treasure is worth! I’m perfectly sure in my own mind that Good Queen Bess of pious memory bagged every bar of it!” “And I’m perfectly sure she didn’t,” was the surprising reply. “I’ve been reading Elizabethan history very carefully, and the year that your ancestor hid his gold was the year that the Queen was so hard-pressed for money that she had to borrow from the Lombards.” He stopped. “Is that so?” incredulously. “Absolutely. And if you weren’t such a sceptic and would read a little more, you would know what any schoolchild could tell you, that in 1582 the Queen was broke. Do you object to that vulgar word?” “It is a familiar one at any rate,” he laughed. They had reached the deep cutting, and he turned to the left, opened a gate, and they walked up a little path toward the ruins of Chelford Abbey. The moon was showing through a rift in the clouds. “You ought to see the Abbey by moonlight, if you’ve never seen it. It’s rather beautiful,” he said, as he gave her a hand to assist her up the steep path.