"Well----" Cyril hesitated a moment to ransack his brain for some reasonable pretext; then it occurred to him that it was nearly a certainty his listener's trouble was a pecuniary one. To feign a like predicament for himself might evoke Jack's confidence. "Well," said he, "I want you to lend me twenty-five pounds. I'm hard pressed for it at this moment." Madge had approached the window to speak to Jack. She caught Cyril Wayne's remark, and, drawing back at once, turned away unperceived by both of the young men. Jack fell an easy prey to the trap that had been laid for him. He gazed at Cyril in astonishment and let the match he had lighted die out in his hand. [Illustration: "HE GAZED AT CYRIL IN ASTONISHMENT."] "Lend you twenty-five pounds? Great Scot!" he exclaimed. "Yes." "Twenty-five pounds! You've come to the wrong shop this time, old man!" Then he suddenly lowered his voice and bent his head forward, anxiously. "Can you tell me where I can get just eight times that amount?" he asked. "I want it badly." "Oh! So that is the reason for the letter you received just now?" Jack nodded his head and flushed. "Two hundred pounds!" exclaimed Cyril, aghast. "Let me hear the whole business," he continued. "I can't lend you the money, but I may be able to suggest something." It was the same old story of betting and cards. Cyril had heard it all before, in the same stumbling phraseology of contrition. "And the brute gives me only three days--three days, or he will write to the governor," concluded Jack, turning suddenly savage. "Then forestall him," replied Cyril, "for as far as I can see there is no remedy but to ask your father to help you out of the mire once more." "Ask the governor? You can just bet I sha'n't do that," said Jack, sullenly. He thrust his hands deep into his pockets and stared hard at the ground. "Then, no money-lenders," replied Cyril. "It will only make bad worse. Come!" He caught Jack by the arm. "Make a clean breast of it to your father. He has much more than the sum you require in the house at present, and you may not find him so difficult as you imagine." Jack started. More money than he required for his wants in the house! So near him! Oh, if he only had it! He shook his arm free with impatience. "No, no, I sha'n't do that," said he. "Very well," said Cyril. "But you will do nothing without consulting me? Is that understood?" Jack nodded his head and, turning quickly, stared blindly across the fields that sloped and stretched from the terrace. He didn't see them. His brain was working just then as it had never worked before. Cyril's words about the money had raised a sudden storm of temptation in him which seemed to carry him out of himself. He must try to think--to decide.