would have seen him die in the gutter, of absolute want, before I would have given him a crust of dry bread!"
"You appear to have a terrible dislike of this man," observed Spargo, astonished at her vehemence.
"I had—and I have," she answered. "He tricked my sister into a marriage with him when he knew that she would rather have married an honest man who worshipped her; he treated her with quiet, infernal cruelty; he robbed her and me of the small fortunes our father left us."
"Ah!" said Spargo. "Well, so you say Maitland came to you, when he came out of prison, to ask for his boy. Did he take the boy?"
"No—the boy was dead."
"Dead, eh? Then I suppose Maitland did not stop long with you?"
Miss Baylis laughed her scornful laugh.
"I showed him the door!" she said.
"Well, did he tell you that he was going to Australia?" enquired Spargo.
"I should not have listened to anything that he told me, Mr. Spargo," she answered.
"Then, in short," said Spargo, "you never heard of him again?"
"I never heard of him again," she declared passionately, "and I only hope that what you tell me is true, and that Marbury really was Maitland!"
