offence by marrying in a wrong name, but it would not invalidate the marriage."
Stanford Beale sat studying the pattern of the carpet.
"Is there any chance of two special licences being issued to marry the same girl?" he asked.
"None—why do you ask ? "
Beale did not reply immediately.
"Something Homo said last night when I told him frankly that I was searching for Miss Cress well. 'Oh,' said he, 'that's the lady that's marrying the doctor.' He wouldn't tell me more. But he gave me an idea to make sure that no special licence is issued to van Heerden. I shall apply for one myself."
The lawyer stared at him.
"To marry the girl?" he gasped. "But"
Stanford Beale laughed a little bitterly.
"Say, don't get up in the air, Mr. Kitson—I'm only thinking of Miss Cresswell. A special licence in my name would stop one of van Heerden's paths to easy money. Tell me, and this is what I came to ask you, under Millinborn's will, does the husband benefit directly by the marriage, or is he dependent upon what his wife gives him?'
"He benefits directly," said Kitson after a pause, "on his marriage he receives exactly one-half of the girl's fortune. That was Millinborn's idea. 'Make the husband independent,' he said, 'do not put him in the humiliating position of dependence on his wife's generosity, and there will be a chance of happiness for them both.'"
"I see—of course, van Heerden knows that. He has only to produce a marriage certificate to scoop in two and a half million dollars that is half a million in English money. This is the secret of it all. He wants money immediately, and under the terms of the will?"
"He gets it," said Kitson. "If he came to me to-morrow with proof of his marriage, even if I knew that he had coerced the girl into marriage, I must give him his share—van Heerden was pretty thorough when he put my dying friend through his examination." His face hard-
