'Well, I don't know what there is in that to be ashamed of,' said his uncle; 'and if I mayn't be allowed to talk about a wedding--which but for me, mind yer, would a' been long enough in coming about--p'raps you'll tell me who is; and, as to talking loud, I'm not aware that I'm any louder than usual. What are you looking like that for? Hang me if I don't think there's something in this I ought to see to!' he broke out, with a sudden change of face, as his shrewd little eyes fell on Holroyd's rug, which Mark was carrying for the moment. 'Mark, for all your cleverness, you're a slippery feller--I always felt that about you. You're up to something now--you're meaning to play a trick on one that trusts you, and I won't have it--do you hear me?--I tell you I won't have it!' 'What do you mean?' faltered Mark. For the instant he thought himself detected, and did not pause to think how improbable this was. '_You_ know what I mean. I'm not going to stand by and see you ruin yourself. You shan't set a foot in the train if I have to knock you down and set on you myself! If' (and his voice shook here)--'if you've got into any mess--and it's money--I'll clear you this time, whatever it costs me, but you shan't run away from that dear girl that you're promised to--I'm d----d if you do!' Mark laughed naturally and easily enough. 'Did you think I was going to run away then--from _Mabel_?' 'You tell me what you're doing 'ere at this time o' day, then,' said his uncle, only partially reassured. 'What's that you're carrying?' 'This? My friend's rug. I'm seeing a friend off--that's all. If you do not believe me, I'll show you the friend.' As he looked back at the bookstall he saw something which stiffened him once more with helpless horror: the man at the stall was trying to persuade Holroyd to buy a book for the journey--he was just dusting one now, a volume in a greenish cover with bold crimson lettering, before recommending it; and the book was a copy of the latest edition of 'Illusion,' the edition which bore Mark's name on the title-page! In his despair Mark did the very last thing he would otherwise have done--he rushed up to Holroyd and caught his arm. 'I say, old fellow, don't let them talk you into buying any of that rubbish. Look here, I--I want to introduce you to my uncle!' 'I wasn't asking the gentleman to buy no rubbish,' said the man at the bookstall, resenting the imputation. 'This is a book which is 'aving a large sale just now: we've sold as many as'--but here Mark succeeded in getting Vincent away and bringing him up to Mr. Lightowler. 'How are you, sir?' began that gentleman, with a touch of condescension in his manner. 'So it's only you that's goin' off? Well, that's a relief to my mind, I can tell yer; for when I saw Mark 'ere with that rug, I somehow got it into my mind that _he_ was goin' to make a run for it. And there 'ud be a pretty thing for all parties--hey?'