"Mais, oui, Monsieur; il y a bien une lettre."
Wallace seized it, and the blood rushed to his face. The address was in his uncle's handwriting, and the letter was registered!
"Come outside," he said, after he had signed the receipt, thrusting his hand within Garth's arm. "I don't want these prying foreigners to get wind of my affairs."
Standing under an awning in front of a shop, Wallace tore open his uncle's letter, and Garth, watching him furtively under his white eyebrows, noted the swift changes of expression which passed over his face. First astonishment, then amusement, and finally a baffled and angered look characterised his features as he thrust the letter into the hands of his companion.
"Read it," he said, "and see if your infernal cunning can get me out of the scrape! It beats me!"
Alexander Wallace's handwriting was small and cramped, but perfectly legible. His letter was written from his London office, and ran as follows,—
"Dear Nephew,—If it be true that a pious and virtuous lady has been so misguided as to link her fate with such an idle and dissipated ne'er-do-weel as I fear you have become, your wife has my heartiest sympathy. But I have a belief which is almost unlimited in the capability of a good woman for reforming a man, however deeply he be sunk in depravity, and I intend, for your wife's sake, to give you yet another chance. To this end I send you ten pounds to relieve your present necessities; and within a week, if your wife is strong enough to travel, I will forward the money wherewith you may at once make your way to my house in London. But understand—my future dealings with you will depend upon your absolute truthfulness and candour in the matter. If I find that Mrs. Wallace Armstrong is indeed what you describe—a gentle, high-minded, romantic, and unworldly young lady, your equal in birth, of truly Christian training, devoted to you, and believing in your higher capabilities, I will take both her and you into my house, which sadly needs the sweetening presence of a daughter for my old age. More than that; upon your arrival with your wife at my office—armed, of course, with all necessary credentials, such as your marriage-certificate and such papers as shall show your wife's position and home-training before you married her—I will provide you with immediate employment, and I will settle upon your wife, whose name, by-the-way, you do not mention, the sum of three hundred pounds a year, to be paid quarterly for her sole use and benefit, and to be increased in a given time to five hundred if I deem it expedient. On receipt of this letter and enclosure I must ask you to pay at once all that you owe at the hotel, to provide your wife with food and necessaries, and to send on to me full receipts for all amounts you may disburse from the enclosed ten pounds. Will you also tell me at what date I may expect you and your wife, and you shall receive by return the necessary sum for your fares and other expenses incidental on your journey. Remember, I had not meant, nor had I wished, to see your face again; but, if a good woman has been brought to believe in you, and to link her fate with yours, I will try to forget your past conduct, and will give you yet one more chance of attaining that position which, but for your follies and vices, should be yours already.
"Your uncle,
"Alexander Wallace."
Captain Garth read the letter twice through. Then he returned it to its owner and began pulling reflectively at his white moustache.
"My boy," he observed, "it is a poser—certainly a poser! But the chance is not one to let slip. Three hundred a year going begging for want of a wife. We must have a petit verre together at the nearest café out of this sunshine and think it over. Three hundred a year!"
Oddly enough, as he reflected, it was the exact amount of the late Mrs. Garth's life-interest, which had passed away on her death to her own family. A third of that had been his; and although two pounds a week was an absurd trifle for a gentleman of his taste and social position, yet, with only himself to keep, it had often sufficed in bad times to keep the wolf from the door. And times grew worse instead of better, and the three hundred would probably soon be increased to five—more than that, if once Wallace Armstrong was restored to his uncle's favour, the lion's share of old Wallace's wealth might well be his some day, since, of the banker's two nephews, he had undoubtedly at that time been the best-loved. Such a chance must by no means be allowed to slip from this young man's grasp.