"'tis very hard to play the game of life;

for tho' you keep your eye upon the board,

and move your puppets in well-thought-out ways,

just when the winning seems within your grasp,

some pawn is touched by stealthy-fingered chance,

and straight the would-be victor looses all."

in his dingy office sat mr. dombrain before his desk, in deep thought; and judging from the frown on his coarse face, his thoughts were not of the pleasantest. he bit his hard nails, he pulled at his stubbly red moustache, drummed on the table with his large hairy hands, and in fact displayed all the symptoms of a man very much disturbed in his mind. the cause of this disturbance was mrs. belswin, and, seeing that he was alone, mr. dombrain for the moment threw off his professional suavity and cursed the lady heartily. had she been present, she would have laughed at his outburst of wrath; but as she had just left the room, he was free to make as rude remarks as he pleased, and he certainly took full advantage of his solitude. the wrath of mrs. belswin and the subsequent flattening out of mr. dombrain arose out of the following circumstance.

the lawyer, seeing that kaituna had been left penniless, except for certain shares, which he truly assured her were not worth the paper they were written on, had, in a spirit of philanthropy, offered to buy those shares off her at his own price--which was a very small one--so that miss pethram would have something to live on. he wrote a letter--a generous and noble letter, from his point of view--in which he offered to take these undesirable shares in the pole star mining company off her hands at a great sacrifice to himself, and mrs. belswin had answered the letter on behalf of kaituna in person. as she was a lady who never minced matters, however unpleasant, and moreover never exercised any self-control, mr. dombrain had rather a bad time of it for a quarter of an hour. he had seen that phrase in a french novel, but had never thoroughly understood its significance until mrs. belswin illustrated it to him in her own graphic manner. she said--oh, he hardly remembered what she said, except that she used the word "swindler" pretty often, and made several pointed allusions to the disgrace of an ex-convict exercising an honourable profession in london.

mr. dombrain could have said something rather disagreeable to her, which would certainly have shut her up, but this modern xantippe gave him no opportunity of saying a word. she came, she saw, she raged, stormed, crushed, conquered, and finally departed in a whirlwind of passion, telling him that clendon was going to look after the shares in melbourne, and that if he dared to try any tricks on her she would--she would---- mr. dombrain shivered when he thought of what she said she would do.

now, however, that she was out of the room, and he had collected his thoughts, scattered by her terrific onslaught, he began to think, and after several minutes of thinking and frowning, he grinned. not a pleasant grin by any manner of means--a nasty mephistophelean grin that boded ill to his adversary. she had been unpleasant to him; well, he could now be unpleasant to her, and in a way she wouldn't like. he constructed a little scheme in his head which he thought would answer his purpose, and was about to make a few notes relative to the same, when a card was brought in to him.

"silas p. oates."

mr. dombrain shivered, and had the clerk not been present he would have sworn. as it was, however, he merely told the clerk to show the gentleman in, and then trembled at the thought of this second phantom of the past which had succeeded to mrs. belswin. she knew about his little mistake in new zealand, so also did mr. oates; and mr. dombrain groaned in dismay as he thought of the double chance of exposure now threatening him. did the american come as a friend, as an enemy, or in ignorance? dombrain hoped the first, dreaded the second, but felt pretty confident that the third was the american's state of mind, as he certainly would never connect dombrain the solicitor with damberton the convict. however, it would be decided in another minute, so mr. dombrain smoothed his hair, imposed a nervous grin on his mouth, and waited the advent of this second bogie with inward fear but outward calm.

the millionaire entered, quite unaware of the second shock which awaited him; for his purpose in seeking out mr. dombrain was wholly unconnected with the idea that he would find an old friend. the fact is, mr. oates had read the thornstream case, had noticed that mrs. belswin was mixed up with it, and had sought out mr. dombrain--whose name was also in the papers--with the idea of finding out the precise position held by mrs. belswin in the house of her former husband. sir rupert's solicitor could tell him this if it was drawn from him artfully. mr. dombrain was sir rupert's solicitor, so to mr. dombrain came the wary silas, wholly ignorant of what awaited him.

silas did not notice dombrain particularly at first, but sat down in the chair beside the table and cast about for some good idea wherewith to begin an extremely awkward conversation. dombrain saw that he was not recognised, so kept his face in the shadow as much as possible, and spoke in a low, gruff voice, as if his throat was stuffed with cotton wool.

"i have called, sir," observed mr. oates, after a preliminary cough, "to speak to you about the late sir rupert pethram."

"yes?"

"you, sir, i understand, were his lawyer. is that so?"

"that is so," replied dombrain, unconsciously dropping into the americanisms of the speaker.

"a friend of mine, sir," pursued mr. oates, after another pause, "was connected, i believe, with the deceased. i allude, sir, to mrs. belswin."

"mrs. belswin!"

the name so startled dombrain, that he forgot his intention of keeping his identity concealed from his visitor, and speaking in his natural voice started forward so that his face was clearly seen by silas. now mr. oates, in addition, to his many other gifts for getting the better of his fellow creatures, possessed a remarkably retentive memory in the matter of faces, and in spite of the alteration mr. dombrain had made in his appearance, recognised him at once. this time his nerves did not belie the reputation he gave them, and after a slight start he leaned back in his chair with a slight, dry smile.

"i opinionate," remarked silas, reflectively, "that i've been on your tracks before."

"no!"

"it was," continued silas, without taking any notice of the denial, "it was in new zealand, sir. dunedin was the city. a healthy gaol, sir, according to the guide books."

"i don't know what you're talking about," said dombrain, doggedly, resuming his seat. "i never saw you before, and i'm a stranger to you."

"dombrain is a stranger, i confess," said silas, fixing his clear eyes on the sullen face of the man before him, "but i can size up the party called damberton without much trouble. i reckon i can tell you a story about him, mr. dombrain, if you want particulars."

"no, no!" said dombrain hoarsely, wiping his forehead; "it's no use beating about the bush. i am damberton, but now i'm quite respectable. you surely are not going to----"

"i'm goin' to do nothin', sir. you ain't upsettin' my apple-cart. no, sir. that's a fact, anyhow."

"then what do you want me to do for you?" asked dombrain, with a sigh of relief.

"well, now," replied silas, thoughtfully, "that's just what i've got to find out. mrs. belswin--hey! do you know who mrs. belswin is?"

"yes, the she-devil! pethram's wife. she was here half an hour ago."

"is that so? i say, you ain't playin' in the same yard, i guess. not much, when you call her names."

"i hate her!" said dombrain, fiercely; "she is the curse of my life."

"i reckon she's been raisin' cain here," observed silas, shrewdly. "well, that ain't any of my business, but she's been tryin' the same game on with me. now i'm a quiet man, sir, and i don't want no catamount spittin' round my front door, so i want you to put the set on that lady."

"what can i do?"

"i've been readin' your noospapers, sir. they can't scream like the american eagle. not much! but i read all about that shootin' case, and i see you were waltzin' round! hey! mrs. pethram wasn't far off neither, i guess."

"no; she was companion to miss pethram."

"well, you do surprise me, sir. i s'pose her daughter didn't rise to the fact that mrs. belswin was her mamma."

"no; she knew nothing. mrs. belswin obtained the situation while sir rupert pethram was absent. when he returned she had an interview with him, and----"

"and he passed in his cheques," concluded silas, musingly. "queer thing that, anyhow."

"you don't think," began dombrain hastily, when silas interrupted him promptly.

"i don't think at all," he said, rising and putting on his hat. "i don't want to think. compoundin' a felony isn't in my line nohow."

"but surely, sir----"

oates, who had turned away, faced round suddenly, with a sharp look in his foxy face which made dombrain feel somewhat ill at ease.

"see here, mister," he said slowly. "mrs. belswin's been round at my hotel tryin' to get dollars. i gave her five hundred, and now this bank's shut. she gets no more, i guess, this fall, because you'll tell her she's not to come gavortin' round my claim no more."

"but i can't stop her."

"no?" said silas, interrogatively, "i guess you can. see here, mr. damberton, i know what you are--none better, and that's straight. you know what mrs. belswin is, and if she plays low on you, sir, just ask her where she got the little gun to fix up things with her husband."

"but she didn't kill him."

silas laughed disbelievingly.

"i don't know nothin' of that game, sir. it's a cut beyond me, and that's a fact. all i say is, that if mrs. belswin comes on the war-path to my ranch, i'll tell some things about mr. damberton that mr. dombrain won't smile at. you take me, sir, i fancy."

"yes!" said dombrain, slowly, while the great drops of sweat gathered on his forehead, "i understand."

"bully for you," replied mr. oates, in a friendly tone, going to the door. "good-mornin', sir. i'm pleased to see you again. it's like the old days, and that's a fact."

mr. oates sauntered out with his hands in his pockets and dombrain flung himself in his chair, and, burying his face in his hands, sobbed like a child.

"my god," he sobbed passionately, "am i to lose all after these years?"