He had promised, and really meant, to have looked after Martin's affairs on his reaching London; but it was almost a week after his return that he bethought him of his pledge, his attention being then called to the subject by finding on his table the visiting-card of Mr. Maurice Scanlan. Perhaps he was not sorry to have something to do; perhaps he had some compunctions of conscience for his forgetfulness; at all events, he sent his servant at once to Scanlan's hotel, with a request that he would call upon him as early as might be. An answer was speedily returned that Mr. Scanlan was about to start for Ireland that same afternoon, but would wait upon him immediately. The message was scarcely delivered when Scanlan himself appeared. Dressed in deep mourning, but with an easy complacency of manner that indicated very little of real grief, he threw himself into a chair, saying, “I pledge you my word of honor, it is only to yourself I 'd have come this morning, Mr. Massingbred, for I 'm actually killed with business. No man would believe the letters I've had to read and answer, the documents to examine, the deeds to compare, the papers to investigate--” “Is the business settled, then--or in train of settlement?” broke in Jack. “I suppose it _is_ settled,” replied Scanlan, with a slight laugh. “Of course you know Mr. Martin is dead?” “Dead! Good heavens! When did this occur?” “We got the news--that is, Merl did--the day before yesterday. A friend of his who had remained at Baden to watch events started the moment he breathed his last, and reached town thirty hours before the mail; not, indeed, that the Captain has yet written a line on the subject to any one.” “And what of the arrangement? Had you come to terms previously with Merl?” “No; he kept negotiating and fencing with us from day to day, now asking for this, now insisting on that, till the evening of his friend's arrival, when, by special appointment, I had called to confer with him. Then, indeed, he showed no disposition for further delay, but frankly told me the news, and said, 'The Conferences are over, Scanlan. I 'm the Lord of Cro' Martin.'” “And is this actually the case,--has he really established his claim in such a manner as will stand the test of law and the courts?” “He owns every acre of it; there's not a flaw in his title; he has managed to make all Martin's debts assume the shape of advances in hard cash. There is no trace of play transactions throughout the whole. I must be off, Mr. Massing-bred; there 's the chaise now at the door.” “Wait one moment, I entreat of you. Can nothing be done? Is it too late to attempt any compromise?” “To be sure it is. He has sent off instructions already to serve the notice for ejectment. I 've got orders myself to warn the tenants not to pay the last half-year, except into court.” “Why, are _you_ in Mr. Merl's service, then?” asked Jack, with one of his quiet laughs.