On reaching New York, he at once went to the office of the line by which he had come from England, and was pleased to hear that there was a ship going out that very day at two o'clock in the afternoon, and that he could sail on her if he wished. He replied that it would suit him admirably. After paying for his passage, he produced the bag, and inquired if it could be placed in the ship's strong room, to which assent was given. Gilbert now felt his mind was at rest.
Yet during the voyage he was visited now and again by misgivings, as he had heard that even the strong rooms of Atlantic greyhounds have not always been burglar-proof. Then the ship was struck by a tempest in mid-ocean, and Gilbert was afraid both he and the treasure might go to the bottom. But at length the ship sailed into port, and there, at the side of the dock, was Ernest waiting for him.
After the two brothers had embraced, and Ernest, in reply to Gilbert's inquiry, had told him their father was in much the same condition as when Gilbert had seen him last, he produced a cablegram, addressed to Gilbert, which had been received at the office in Lincoln's Inn some five days before.
"It is about Silwood, I think," said Gilbert.
The cablegram was from Hankey; it ran as follows--
"Russell dead. Wife desires return England. Writing."
"Silwood is dead," said Gilbert, briefly.
"Dead! I never thought to hear that!" exclaimed Ernest.
"I have much to tell you, Ernie; but wait until we are in the train. Besides, I must get a bag out of the ship's strong room. There may be some little delay over it; come with me."
Gilbert went back to the ship, whence, a short time afterwards, he issued, bearing the precious bag.
"Do you see this bag?" he said to his brother in a whisper. "It is worth half a million of money."
"It is the truth; it contains Silwood's hoard."
In silence the brothers passed into the train for London. Once it was well under way, Gilbert told Ernest all that had happened.
"Fancy Silwood being so attached to his wife and child!" cried Ernest. "What a strange mixture he was! And now he is dead--really dead this time! What a colossal failure he made of his life! And yet he could not have carried out his schemes with the success he did achieve had he not been a man of remarkable ability."