“Ay, indeed!  Very much jollier,” and they smoked and listened.

No word had so far passed between them as to the troubles that lay behind.  There had, indeed, been no opportunity until now, and Graeme had no mind to broach the matter.

But Pixley had only been waiting till they could discuss things alone, and the time had come.

“It will take them months to get to the bottom of things over there,” he said quietly.  “I saw the accountants, and they say everything’s in a dreadful mess.  He must have been involved for years.  It makes me absolutely sick to think of it all, Graeme, and him—­”

“I’m sure it must, old chap.  Why think of it?  It’s done, and it can’t be undone, and everyone knows you had nothing to do with it.”

“I know.  Everyone is very kind, but I can’t get rid of it.  It’s with me all the time like a dirty shadow.”

“We’ll chase it away.  No place like Sark for getting rid of bogeys and worries.”

“How things will come out it’s impossible to say.  I made special enquiries into Margaret’s affairs, and it’s quite certain he’s tampered with her money, but they could not say yet to what extent.  On the other hand, certain of her securities are intact, so everything is not gone.  But what I wanted to say was this.  I am determined that Margaret shall not suffer, whatever may have happened.  Any deficiency I shall make good myself.”

“My dear fellow, she would never hear of it.”

“That’s why I’m talking to you.”

“Well, I won’t hear of it either.  As I told you before, it was a trouble to me when I heard she had any money.  Whatever she had I settled on herself, and we can get on very well without it.”

“All the same I’m not going to have her lose anything through my—­through him.  Neither you nor she can stop me doing what I like with my own money.”

“We can refuse to touch it.”

“That would be nonsense.”

“Not half as bad as you crippling yourself for life to make good what you’d never made away with.”

“It wouldn’t do that,” said Charles quietly.  “Ormerod’s a long-headed fellow, and we made some pretty good hits before the bottom dropped out of things.  You must let me have my own way in this matter, Graeme, if it’s only for my own peace of mind.  I’m going to ask Miss Penny to be my wife.  Do you think—­”

“My dear fellow,” said Graeme, jumping up and shaking him heartily by the hand, “that’s the best bit of news I’ve heard since Meg said ’I will’ in the church there.  She’s an absolutely splendid girl, is Hennie.  Except Meg herself, I don’t know any girl I admire so much.  She’s as good and sweet as they make ’em, and for sound common-sense she’s a perfect gold mine.”

“And you don’t think—?”

“I’ve never heard a hint of anyone else.  Like me to ask Meg?  She’d be sure to know.  Girls talk of these things, you know.”

“I don’t know.  Would it be quite—­”