Pierce sank down into a chair, his sides shaking with laughter. "You will hardly believe it, Mostyn," he said as soon as he could find his breath, "but the sly old boy was having a joke with me all the time! He wanted me to run off with Cicely against his express will. He wanted to see if I would have the pluck to do it! Think of that--there's a facetious old sportsman for you! You remember how he threatened me, how he gave me to understand that all sorts of penalties would fall upon my unhappy head if I disobeyed him; of course, I imagined that I should be cut off with the proverbial shilling, and all the rest of it, and the old chap knew that I would think so. All the time he was laughing in his sleeve and simply pining to be disobeyed--just wanted to prove my mettle--that's what he said himself, roaring with laughter, and as pleased as Punch about it all. Oh, what an idiot I was to have waited all those months without so much as seeing Cicely, and I verily believe that if I had conscientiously allowed the year to pass the old governor would have disinherited me for that!" Cicely, too, joined in the laughter that Pierce's story gave rise to; she was looking very happy, a little bashful, but her eyes were soft and gentle, and Mostyn went over and kissed her again, congratulating her now from the bottom of his heart, as well as Pierce, for the happy issue out of their troubles. All was well with them, at least, and, doubtful as he was as to his own position, he would not grudge them a fraction of their happiness. After a little while, however, a slight cloud crossed Cicely's face. "We've so much to say about ourselves," she remarked penitently, "that we are quite forgetting about you, Mostyn, and about another matter--a very serious matter, too, which is troubling us, and which will trouble you when you hear of it." "Never mind me," said Mostyn, "I'm all right. I stand as good a chance to win to-morrow as to lose, and what more than that can any man expect? We'll discuss my affairs later on. Tell me the trouble." "It's about father," said Cicely gravely. "But perhaps you've heard, Mostyn?" Mostyn shook his head. He had heard no news as to his father for several months. His time had been so wholly taken up that he had been unable to give his attention to anything except the matter in hand. "Is anything wrong?" he asked a little anxiously. "Very, very wrong, I'm afraid," replied the girl, shaking her head ominously. "I shouldn't have heard anything about it any more than you have, only it came to my ears in a roundabout way when we were in Worcestershire. There was a man staying with the Pentons, who are neighbours of the Trelawnys, you know, and he knew James and Charles very well--I think he had some sort of connection with the bank; he told me all about the misfortunes which have suddenly befallen our father."