"And I--I can do nothing?" said Stafford, huskily. "I am penniless, I

suppose?"

Both Murray and Mr. Chaffinch raised their heads with an air of

surprise.

"Penniless" echoed Mr. Chaffinch. "Certainly not, my lord! Surely you

know?"

Stafford regarded him gravely; it seemed as if he himself were too

crushed by his grief for surprise.

"Know?" he said. "What is in I should know? I do not understand." Mr.

Falconer coughed.

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"We thought you were aware of the existence of the deed; that your

father had informed you, Lord Highcliffe."

"What deed?" asked Stafford, dully. "I am sorry to appear so dense; but

I have not the least idea of your meaning. As you say, Mr. Falconer, I

know nothing of business."

"It is evident that your father did not tell you that he executed a

deed of gift in your favour, a gift of one hundred thousand pounds,"

said Mr. Falconer.

"Which deed, being made when he was quite solvent, cannot be upset. The

money was placed in trust, and is quite beyond the reach of the

creditors," said Mr. Chaffinch. "We thought you were aware of this, my

lord."

Stafford shook his head. He evinced no sign of relief, the colour did

not rise to his face, and his eyes were still fixed on Falconer.

"It was a very wise provision," said Mr. Chaffinch, approvingly. "And

distinctly one I should have recommended; but Sir Stephen--Lord

Highcliffe--did it of his own accord. He was a far-seeing man, and he

was aware that fortune might fail him, that it was necessary he should

place you, my lord, out of danger. I can well believe that, even at

that time, he saw the peerage coming, and felt that you should be made

secure, that you should have a sufficient income to support the title.

It is not a tenth, a twentieth of the sum you would have inherited, but

for this unfortunate accident of the native rising, and the collapse of

the South African Company."

Stafford scarcely heard him. He was thinking of his father's loving

foresight and care for his son's future. A pang of bereavement shot

through him.

"Very wise," said Mr. Falconer, grimly. "Whatever happens, Lord

Highcliffe is safe, high and dry above water mark. Carefully invested,

the capital sum may be made to produce an income of four thousand, or

thereabouts. Not too much for an earldom, but--Ah, well, it might be so

much worse."




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