Yet, if he had possessed the power to peer into the girl's heart, Guy would have found that his own image was already stamped there; that it was his presence which was the inspiration to enjoy; that, unknowingly, imperceptibly, the tiny seed of love had been planted in her maiden bosom, needing but the passage of the hours before it should spring up into the perfect plant of a pure woman's first love. But, though Meriel knew not of the implantation, she was conscious of the additional thrill in her delight. The whole world was now become perfect to her. She thought the sense of beatitude was the product of the sensuous melody of the opera.

There was no discordant note anywhere. The evening promised to pass in joy unalloyed. A fly dropped into the ointment. She looked up and met the glance of Hildebrand Flurscheim. To her it was at first the mere casual glance of a complete stranger from a near box. But there was something compelling in it. When she glanced in his direction again he was still gazing steadily at her. She drew herself back into the shadow. But the exhilaration of spirit had passed. She felt compelled to look again in the direction of the stranger. He was still watching. When the act was ended, she turned almost petulantly to Guy.

"Can you tell me who that man is? The Jew staring at us so persistently from the fifth box on the right?" she asked.

Guy glanced in the direction she indicated, but before he answered Captain Marven spoke:

"The fifth?" he said. "That's Flurscheim, the chap who lost the Greuze the other day. It's reported," he added meditatively, "that he has sworn that he will devote the whole of the rest of his life if necessary to tracking down the rascal who has robbed him of his picture."

There was a smile on Guy's face as he answered: "He doesn't expect to find it at Covent Garden, does he?"

Despite the smile, however, he was conscious of a vague sense of uneasiness at the persistent scrutiny which Flurscheim was bestowing upon the box. There are times when the fear of being found out bears a marvellous similarity to the prickings of conscience, and certain inward twitches which he felt made him supremely uncomfortable. Hitherto he had always been able to justify his actions by means of Lynton Hora's philosophy, but now he realised in a flash that he would not longer be satisfied by justification in his own eyes. Could he justify his deeds to the satisfaction of the pure-browed girl by whose side he stood? Would she accept the doctrine that since virtue consisted in a thirst for danger and a courage for the forbidden, the highest virtue was to be found in the breaking of laws? He knew instinctively that she would not, that in her eyes he would appear no heroic figure engaged in single combat against a host of enemies, but the despicable figure—a furtive, cringing, creeping figure—the despicable figure of a thief.

He left the box with his thoughts in a turmoil. He scarcely observed the particular warmth of the farewells with which both Mrs. Marven and Captain Marven took leave of him. He hardly noticed that Meriel's hand had lingered a moment in his grasp. He felt that he must be assured that Flurscheim had not been watching him.

CHAPTER VIII
A SUCCESSFUL SPECULATION AND ITS RESULT

Lynton Hora felt that Fate had dealt generously with him when it made Captain Marven the bearer of the despatch case which Guy had so ingeniously rifled of its secrets. Guy's success had supplied him with all the information necessary to bring off a magnificent coup on the Stock Exchange. He had speculated heavily for the fall in the securities of both countries. He knew that publication of the information he had in his possession would make his operation successful. He had not scrupled to publish that information, though its disclosure before its discussion between the chancelleries of the two nations concerned brought two great powers to the verge of war.