It was brighter now than ever. The position of the Bank was secure above all chances of assault. He should marry that girl, and by that marriage cover up for ever the crime he had committed. The reputation of her fortune would enormously increase the security and business of the Bank. Then--long-deferred ambition--then he might enter Parliament. The best society would gradually open to him. He should be successful in the House; he should possibly rise to place; if this happened, considering he should have the reputation of great wealth, and for a wife the beautiful daughter of a baronet, of a race that went back to the Conquest, what more possible than that there should in a few years, in Debrett, be the name of Sir Henry Walter Grey, Bart.? The prospect was not unreasonable. What intoxicating probabilities were these! He would like a little brandy now. He did not care to go downstairs for it, or to ring again. There was some, no doubt, in the tower cupboard. Yes, that would do. Here was the key in his pocket. With a radiant face and an elastic step he left the room, carrying a lighted candle in his hand. He stalked back in a few minutes, holding the candle out at arm's length before him. "The other key is at the other side of the door. The door is locked on the inner side, and my wife is there!" CHAPTER XVI. THE PRESENT AS IT WAS. He put the candle on the dressing-table, and sat down in front of the glass. He placed one elbow on the table, bent his head low, and catching his hair, softly rested his head on the ball of his hand. His brows were knit. His eyes, bent on the toilet-cover, were vacant, rayless; they carefully explored the pattern of the cloth. His mind was a blank. It showed nothing. It was as incapable of reflection as the waters of the middle sea battered by the winds beneath the tawny clouds. His reason was not with him, and the machinery of his mind had stopped. There were no ideas in his imagination. His mind floated free in unoccupied space. For a while he sat thus. Then he raised his head and looked firmly into the glass. "What has happened to me?" he thought, with his eyes fixed on the eyes in the glass. "A moment ago, when I discovered she still lived, I felt in despair; and now I am calm. What has happened to me? "What has happened to me? "Here is the situation: "The servants think she went to that boat. She knew on such occasions I always took charge of whatever little luggage we required. They have not seen her since luncheon. They believe she was in the _Rodwell_. It is scarcely possible anyone can say she was not in the _Rodwell_; all the people and crew who were on the after-deck are dead. Any one who heard of my visit to Asherton's Quay, or met one of the servants, would regard me as a widower. I _was_ a widower at Asherton's Quay. I _was_ a widower while I drove up from Asherton's Quay to this. My servants assure me I am a widower. "To-morrow all Daneford will regard me a widower.