"I hope that won't be for a long time," said Allen gravely; "poor mother, she had a sad life with my father." "Why did he go mad so suddenly, Allen?" "The shock of those diamonds being carried off, I suppose, Eva. But he was mad when he stole that wooden hand. Where is it?" "Buried in the vault. We put it there," said Eva, shuddering; "I never wish to see it again. Look at the misery it caused. But why did your father steal it?" "Never mind. He was mad, and that's the best that can be said. It was just as well he died while I was away. He would only have lingered on, an imbecile. I wish my mother would give up the house and come out with us to Bolivia, Eva." "We might be able to persuade her. But there's one question I want to ask: What's become of Butsey? I haven't heard of him, since he left Mr. Mask." Allen laughed. "Yes; he gave Mask the slip very smartly," he said, "a dangerously clever lad is Butsey. I heard he was in America. A fine field for his talents he'll find there." "Why did he tell lies about Giles Merry?" "Because he hated Merry, and wanted to save Miss Lorry. He knew all the time that Miss Lorry was guilty, but would have hanged Giles to save her. Had she not confessed, Giles, with that brat lying in the witness-box, would have been in a strange plight." "Would they have tried Butsey, had he not got away?" "I can't say. Perhaps they would. I am not a good lawyer. You had better ask Mask. However, the boy's gone, and I dare say he'll some day be lynched in the States. People like him always come to a bad end, Eva. Well, any more questions?" "I can't think of any. Why do you ask?" Allen took her hands, and looked into her eyes. "Because I want to put the old bad past out of our minds. I want you to ask what you wish to ask, and I'll answer. Then we'll drop the subject for ever." "There's nothing more I want to know," said Eva after a pause; "tell me about our house, Allen." He kissed her, and then told of the quaint Spanish house in the sleepy old Spanish town, and told also of the increasing wealth of the silver mine. "We'll all be millionaires in a few years, Eva, and then we can return to Europe and take a house in London." "Certainly not in Wargrove," said Eva, shivering. "I want to forget this place with all its horrors. My dream----" "Don't talk of it, Eva. We'll be married next week, and then life will be all joy for us both. Ah, here is Mrs. Palmer!----" "Mrs. Parkins that is to be," said the male figure by the widow's side; "we're going to travel together." "I am so glad, Constance," said Eva, kissing her. "What about me, Miss Strode?" asked the envious American. "I'll salute you by proxy in this way," said Eva, and kissed Allen. "Oh, Horace!" sighed Mrs. Palmer, and sank into her lover's arms.