An execration rose to the young man's lips, but he repressed it, and followed the attendant. The door of the house closed behind him, and its jar seemed finally to shiver to atoms the fabric he had been constructing so long and so laboriously. He stood on the pavement of the street, once more the vile Cornish peasant. His devices had recoiled upon his own head. One step of a simple girl had disconcerted all his schemes. And he had tied his own hands. But then with a sort of savage glee he thought of the plight of the young lovers. At least he had brought ruin on the house from which he had been driven with disdain. And he retained his hold on Mrs. Pendarrel. He was not lost in loss itself. He must obtain the funds which he had affected to despise. Should he not follow up the idea which he had mentioned of charging Randolph with instigating those incendiaries? There was motive sufficient to make the accusation credible. He could at least tamper with some of those who were in custody. The hope of pardon, the promise of reward would be tempting inducements. He was not yet destitute of resources. And he had the chance of his lottery-ticket. Such were the notions into which the tumult of Sinson's passions at length subsided. He had gone into the Green Park, and he walked rapidly to and fro, under the trees by Rosamond's Pond. Some people watched him, thinking that he meditated suicide. But his pace became gradually slower and steadier, and the flaneurs went on their way, wondering what might have caused so much agitation. "No," Michael might have muttered between his teeth; "at least he shall not enjoy any tranquillity. Infamy shall follow poverty. He shall never be happy with her, nor she with him. Let him pay for his father's scornfulness; let her atone for her mother's disdain. Ha! What did I say? What did I betray? But no; I mentioned nothing tangible. No names. No particulars. The secret is safe. Let Mrs. Pendarrel take possession of Trevethlan Castle: she will hold it for me. Let her refuse me my demands, and I blow her title to the winds, and shame her in the sight of the world. And I am safe. There would be nothing against me but what I chose to confess. Ay, the game is not up yet. I shall not have played for nothing. Was I expelled from the castle? Am I driven from the hall? Long shall the heir of the one, and the mistress of the other, rue the contumely they cast upon Michael Sinson." The muser started, for a hand grasped his arm, and shook him. He looked up, and encountered Everope. "Do you hear, Sinson?" cried the spendthrift. "Five times I have said your name! What is the matter with you?" "It's plain enough what is the matter with you," Michael answered moodily. "And why have you not left London? For what are you lingering here? Do you wish to be transported?" "If I am, you will be also," said Everope. "I must have some money."