Richard's heart was touched, as it well might have been; though perhaps
the condition of mind in which his father's communication found him had
something to do with it. By that night's mail he despatched a letter
home which gave the greatest delight at the Court, and also at the
vicarage, for Mr. Luscombe, full of pride and joy, brought it to my
father to read. "I have been very foolish, sir, and very wicked," it
ran. "I believe I should have been dead by this time had not Maitland
stolen my money (so that I have no reason to feel very angry with him)
and deprived me of the means of suicide. I give you my word of honour
that I will never gamble again."

Lady Jane sent a telegram to meet Master Richard in Paris, to say what
a dear good boy he was, and how happy he had made her. This did not
surprise him, but what did astonish him very much on arriving at the
Court was that John Maitland opened the door for him.

"Why, you old scoundrel!"

"Yes, sir, I know; I'm a thief and all that, but I did it for the best;
I did, indeed."

Though the fatted calf was killed for Master Richard, he had by no means
returned like the prodigal son. On the contrary, he had sent home
a remittance, as it were, by the butler, of more than five thousand
pounds. The whole plot had been devised by honest John as the only
method of extricating Master Richard from that Monte Carlo spider's web,
and had been carried out by the help of the _maitre d'hotel_, with the
squire's approval. And to do the young fellow justice, he never resented
the trick that had been played upon him.