"But, remember, I have already warned you against going to the front with a war artist, and would ask you now to listen to Montagu's terrible retaliation. Goodness knows, I am loth enough to admit it. [Illustration] "Those wolves came back again, and then it was that he, rushing into my tent, said that lunacy, ay, raving madness, stared him in the face, unless the last die were cast--if that wouldn't settle them, nothing would. With this he grasped a half-finished article of mine to _The Times_, and confronting those wolves, read aloud to that astonished pack the first short paragraph. Then it was that, utterly panic-stricken, they fled, howling in wild confusion, to the Balkans, and I understand they have been scarce in Bulgaria ever since. Who, after this, will question for one moment the far-reaching influence of the British press?" (_To be continued._) [Illustration: The Rynard Gold Reef C'oy L'd.] BY WALTER BESANT. ACT I. "You dear old boy," said the girl, "I am sure I wish it could be--with all my heart--if I have any heart." "I don't believe you have," replied the boy, gloomily. "Well, but Reg, consider; you've got no money." "I've got five thousand pounds. If a man can't make his way upon that, he must be a poor stick." "You would go abroad with it and dig, and take your wife with you--to wash and cook." "We would do something with the money here. You should stay in London, Rosie." "Yes. In a suburban villa, at Shepherd's Bush, perhaps. No, Reg, when I marry, if ever I do--I am in no hurry--I will step out of this room into one exactly like it." The room was a splendid drawing-room in Palace Gardens, splendidly furnished. "I shall have my footmen and my carriage, and I shall----" "Rosie, give me the right to earn all these things for you!" the young man cried impetuously. "You can only earn them for me by the time you have one foot in the grave. Hadn't I better in the meantime marry some old gentleman with his one foot in the grave, so as to be ready for you against the time when you come home? In two or three years the other foot I dare say would slide into the grave as well." "You laugh at my trouble. You feel nothing." [Illustration: "THIS HEARTLESS HAND."] "If the pater would part--but he won't--he says he wants all his money for himself, and that I've got to marry well. Besides, Reg"--here her face clouded and she lowered her voice--"there are times when he looks anxious. We didn't always live in Palace Gardens. Suppose we should lose it all as quickly as we got it. Oh!" she shivered and trembled. "No, I will never, never marry a poor man. Get rich, my dear boy, and you may aspire even to the valuable possession of this heartless hand." She held it out. He took it, pressed it, stooped and kissed her. Then he dropped her hand and walked quickly out of the room. "Poor Reggie!" she murmured. "I wish--I wish--but what is the use of wishing?" ACT II.