She was thinking of
her husband, and in what manner he would annoy her next; but she
half thought--and the wish was father to the half thought--that
having got the nugget he would now leave her alone.
She knew that he had not been in Ballarat since that fatal night
when he had attacked her, but imagined that he was merely hiding
till such time as the storm should blow over and he could enjoy his
ill-gotten gains in safety. The letter asking him to give up the
nugget and ordering him to leave the district under threat of
prosecution had been sent to his lodgings, but was still lying there
unopened. The letters accumulated into quite a little pile as weeks
rolled on, yet Mr Villiers, if he was alive, made no sign, and if he
was dead, no traces had been found of his body. McIntosh and Slivers
had both seen the police about the affair, one in order to recover
the nugget, the other actuated by bitter enmity against Madame
Midas. To Slivers' hints, that perhaps Villiers' wife knew more than
she chose to tell, the police turned a deaf ear, as they assured
Slivers that they had made inquiries, and on the authority of Selina
and McIntosh could safely say that Madame Midas had been home that
night at half-past nine o'clock, whereas Villiers was still alive in
Ballarat--as could be proved by the evidence of Mr Jarper--at two
o'clock in the morning. So, foiled on every side in his endeavours
to implicate Mrs Villiers in her husband's disappearance, Slivers
retired to his office, and, assisted by his ungodly cockatoo, passed
many hours in swearing at his bad luck and in cursing the absent
Villiers.
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