It was all bravado on the part of Oates, as he was in deadly fear lest his wife should come in and learn all. True this discreditable connection had taken place before his marriage: but Mrs. Oates would not take that fact into consideration, and would make things very unpleasant for him. With all his cleverness and craft, Silas was a coward at heart; so as Mrs. Belswin sat there, evidently determined to await the arrival of his wife, he skirmished round, in order to find out some weak spot in her armour by which he could beat her. Had he betrayed fear, Mrs. Belswin would have at once perceived that she had the advantage; but he did nothing but sit smiling before her, and all she could do in her mad rage was to tell all to Mrs. Oates, thereby cutting her own throat, and benefiting nothing by revelation. "Say," queried Mr. Oates, airily, "why don't you look up Pethram?" "He is dead.' "Is that so?" said Oates, somewhat startled. "Died in New Zealand, I guess?" "No, he didn't. He died in England." "What did you kill him for?" It was simply an idle, malicious question, as Silas never for a moment dreamed that the husband and wife had met, or that there had been anything strange about the husband's death. Foolish Mrs. Belswin, never thinking, flashed out at once, on the impulse of the moment, quite forgetting that she was putting a sword into her enemy's hand. "I didn't kill him. How dare you say so? No one knows who murdered him." Silas jumped up from his seat with an exclamation of surprise, as his apparently idle question had evidently drawn forth something important. "Oh, he was murdered, then?" "Didn't you know," said Mrs. Belswin, haughtily, "when you spoke to me like that?" "I know nothing," returned Silas, coolly. "I only spoke because I know if you had met Pethram in one of your fiendish tempers you would have put a knife in him." Mrs. Belswin saw that she had raised a suspicion in the mind of Silas, so was now careful as to what she said. "You're talking at random. Pethram is dead, and some one shot him; I don't know who. You can see all about it in the papers." Silas made no answer, as he was thinking. Owing to Mrs. Belswin's unsuspicious nature he had learned a very important fact, which might possibly lead to his circumventing her demands for money. So he made up his mind at once how to act, and acted. "See here," he said, good-humouredly, pulling out his cheque-book; "I'll do what I can for you. Tell my wife or not, if you like; but now, if five hundred dollars are of any use, I'll give you that lot straight off." "Five hundred dollars," said Mrs. Belswin, coolly--"one hundred pounds. Well, that will do in the meantime; but I'm to have the rest next week, or I'll make things hot for you, Silas." The American had his own opinion on the subject, but, with his habitual craft, said nothing. Filling up the cheque, he gave it to Mrs. Belswin, who took it without a word of thanks, and put it in her purse.