“Plunder!” echoed Jack. “Was it _your_ ill-got plunder when you took it away from me? It is my money; but I wish now I had never seen it, for a thousand times as much couldn’t pay me for what I have lost! She has lost faith in me,”—looking through his streaming tears at the retreating form of Mrs. Chatford, following her husband from the room,—“and I can never again be in this house what I have been. But I can’t give up the money; I haven’t got it, and I don’t know where it is.”