Meadows hesitated, and then agreed to give him the notes on condition Crawley went to France that very day.
Crawley kept faith. He hugged his treasure to his bosom, and sat down at the railway-station waiting for the train.
Old Isaac Levi was there, and a police officer whom Crawley knew.
"You have £7,000 about you, Mr. Crawley," whispered Isaac in his ear. "Stolen! Give it up to the police officer. Stolen by him, received by you. Give it up unless you prefer a public search. Here is a search warrant from the mayor."
"I won't without Mr. Meadows' authority. Send for Mr. Meadows, if you dare!"
"Well, we will take you to Mr. Meadows. Keep the money till you see him, but we must secure you. Let us go in a carriage."
Meantime, Mr. Meadows had gone to the bank, and had made over the sum of £7,000 to George Fielding and Thomas Robinson. Then he hastened to the church, for it was his wedding-day, and every delay was dangerous.
The parson was late, and while Meadows stood waiting outside the church, along with old Merton and his daughter, and a crowd of neighbours, George Fielding and Robinson came up.
"Susan!" cried a well-known voice behind her. The bride turned, and forgot everything at the sight of George's handsome, honest face, and threw herself into his arms. George kissed the bride.
"What have you done?" cried Susan. "You are false to me! You never wrote me a letter for twelve months, and you are married to a lady in Bathurst! Oh, George!"