1 files changed, 15515 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/25607.txt b/25607.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8075097
--- /dev/null
+++ b/25607.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,15515 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Witness to the Deed, by George Manville Fenn
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Witness to the Deed
+
+Author: George Manville Fenn
+
+Release Date: May 26, 2008 [EBook #25607]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITNESS TO THE DEED ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
+
+
+
+
+Witness to the Deed, by George Manville Fenn.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+This is indeed rather an extraordinary book, in many ways not in the
+usual style of Fenn, yet in others in a style that few but Fenn could
+rise to.
+
+One of the problems with this book is that, at least in the early
+chapters, there are flashbacks in the text, most unusual in the
+nineteenth century, though regrettably an oft-used device in the writing
+of today.  This does make it difficult to follow the story, but you just
+have to push on with the work, and you will be rewarded in the end.
+
+A young girl, the daughter of an admiral, had previously married a man
+who turned out to be a forger, and who was believed to have died.  The
+hero of the book was due that day to marry her, and was very much in
+love with her.  Just as he is departing for the church, a visitor
+appears, and states that, far from being dead, he is the girl's husband.
+He demands money: there is a fight; two pistol-shots are fired; the
+bridegroom-to-be does not turn up at the wedding; several people are
+seriously upset, and remain so throughout the book.  Matters do not
+clear up until the very end of the book.
+
+You could probably call this a psychological novel, and, as such, it is
+not really suitable for children, as most of Fenn's novels are.  It is
+quite a long book, longer than most others by Fenn, and it demands great
+concentration throughout.  If you are reading it for the second or third
+time, you could listen to an audio version of it, but we would advise
+reading it from the screen when first you read this book.
+
+The type used was very clear, and the book was easily digitised, but
+unfortunately there were numerous type-setting errors, which all had to
+be sought out and corrected.  Hopefully there are very few left.  Be a
+brave soul and try this book, taking your time over it.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+WITNESS TO THE DEED, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ONE.
+
+IN BENCHERS' INN.
+
+"My darling!  Mine at last!"  _Ting-tang; ting-tang; ting-tang_.
+
+Malcolm Stratton, F.Z.S., naturalist, a handsome, dark-complexioned man
+of eight-and-twenty, started and flushed like a girl as he hurriedly
+thrust the photograph he had been apostrophising into his breast pocket,
+and ran to the deep, dingy window of his chambers to look at the clock
+over the old hall of Bencher's Inn, E.C.  It was an unnecessary piece of
+business, for there was a black marble clock on the old carved oak
+chimney-piece nestling among Grinling Gibbons' wooden flowers and
+pippins, and he had been dragging his watch from his pocket every ten
+minutes since he had risen at seven, taken his bath, and dressed; but he
+had forgotten the hour the next minute, and gone on making his
+preparations, haunted by the great dread lest he should be too late.
+
+"Quarter to ten yet," he muttered.  "How slowly the time goes!"  As he
+spoke he sniffed slightly and smiled, for a peculiar aromatic
+incense-like odour had crept into the room through the chinks in a door.
+
+He stepped back to where a new-looking portmanteau lay upon the Turkey
+carpet, and stood contemplating it for a few moments.
+
+"Now, have I forgotten anything?"
+
+This question was followed by a slow look round the quaint, handsomely
+furnished old oak-panelled room, one of several suites let out to
+bachelors who could pay well, and who affected the grim old inn with its
+plane trees, basin of water, and refreshing quiet, just out of the roar
+of the busy city street.  And as Malcolm Stratton looked round his eyes
+rested on his cases of valuable books and busts of famous naturalists,
+and a couple of family portraits, both of which seemed to smile at him
+pleasantly; and then on and over natural history specimens, curious
+stuffed birds, a cabinet of osteological preparations, and over and
+around the heavy looking carvings and mouldings about the four doorways,
+and continued from the fireplace up to the low ceiling.  But, look where
+he would, he could see nothing but a beautiful face with large, pensive
+eyes, gazing with loving trust in his as he had seen them only a few
+hours before when he had said "good-night."
+
+"Bah!  I shall never be ready," he cried, with an impatient laugh, and
+crossing to one of the doorways--all exactly alike--he disappeared for a
+moment or two, to return from his bedroom with a black bag, which he
+hastily strapped, set down, paused to think for a moment, and then
+taking out his keys opened the table-drawer, took out a cheque book, and
+sat down to write.
+
+"May as well have enough," he said merrily.  "I've waited long enough
+for this trip, and a man does not get married every day.  One--fifty.
+Signature.  Bah!  Don't cross it, stupid!"
+
+He tore out the cheque, threw back the book, and locked the drawer,
+before going to a door on the right-hand side of the fireplace, bending
+forward and listening.
+
+"Wonder he has not been in," he muttered.  "Now let's see.  Anything
+else?  How absurd!  Haven't finished my coffee."
+
+He took the cup from the table, drained it, and, after another look
+round, turned to the left side of the fireplace, where he opened a door
+corresponding to the one at which he had listened, went in, and returned
+directly with an ice axe and an alpenstock.
+
+"May as well take them," he said.  "Myra can use you."
+
+He gave the alpenstock a rub with the table napkin before placing it and
+his old mountaineering companion against the bag.  Then, bending down,
+he was busily strapping the portmanteau and forcing the tongue of the
+last buckle into its proper hole when there was a knock at the door
+behind him, and he started to his feet.
+
+"Come in!"
+
+The answer was a second knock, and with an impatient ejaculation the
+occupant of the chambers threw open the fourth door.
+
+"I forgot the bolt was fastened, Mrs Brade," he said, as he drew back
+to admit a plump looking, neatly dressed woman in cap and apron, one
+corner of which she took up to begin rolling between her fingers as she
+stood smiling at the edge of the carpet.
+
+"Yes, sir," she said, "if I might make so bold, and I don't wonder at
+it.  Oh, my dear--I mean Mr Stratton, sir--how handsome you do look
+this morning!"
+
+"Why, you silly old woman!" he cried, half laughing, half annoyed.
+
+"Oh, no, excuse me, sir, not a bit.  Handsome is as handsome does, they
+say, and you is and does too, sir, and happiness and joy go with you,
+sir, and your dear, sweet lady too, sir."
+
+"Oh, thank you, thank you, Mrs Brade, but--"
+
+"I always thought as you would marry some day, sir, as was only natural,
+but I never thought as a widow would be your lot."
+
+"Mrs Brade!" cried Stratton impatiently, and with his brows contracting
+a little.  "I am very busy--not a moment to spare."
+
+"Of course, sir, and no wonder; but I do wish it hadn't been such a dull
+morning."
+
+"Dull?" cried Stratton, rushing to the window; "I thought it was all
+sunshine."
+
+"Of course you did, sir; so did I; and well I remember it, though it's
+forty years ago."
+
+"Mrs Brade, I told you I was busy.  I thank you for your
+congratulations, and I gave you all your instructions yesterday, so pray
+what do you want?"
+
+Mrs Brade, wife of the inn porter, lifted the corner of her apron to
+her mouth, and made a sound like the stifling of a laugh.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir, I'm sure, and of course it's natural at such a
+time.  I came because you sent word by the waiter that I was to--"
+
+"Of course, yes: about ten.  I'm so busy, I forgot," cried Stratton
+hastily.  "Look here, Mrs Brade, I want you to go over to the bank; it
+will be open by the time you get across.  Cash this cheque for me; bring
+all notes--tens and fives."
+
+"A hundred and fifty pounds, sir?"
+
+"Yes; take a hand bag with you.  Don't get robbed."
+
+"Oh, no, sir.  I know too much of the ways of London town."
+
+"That's right.  Excuse my being hurried with you."
+
+"Of course, sir; I know well what your feelings must be.  (Sniff,
+sniff.)  Why, you can smell Mr Brettison a-smoking his ubble-bubble
+with that strange tobacco right in here."
+
+As the woman spoke she went straight across to the door on the left of
+the fireplace.
+
+"Here! where are you going?" cried Stratton.
+
+"Back directly, sir," came in smothered tones, accompanied by the
+pulling of a bath chain, the gurgling of water, and the sound of
+shutting down a heavy lid.
+
+"Lor', how strong Mr Brettison do smell, sir.  It's my memory's got
+that bad, sir," said the woman, reappearing and carefully shutting the
+door, "that I'm obliged to do things when I see them want doing, else I
+forgets.  It was only yesterday that Mr Brettison--"
+
+"Mrs Brade, the cheque, please."
+
+"Of course, sir," said the woman hastily just as there was a little
+rat-tat at the brass knocker of the outer door, which she opened.
+
+"Here is Mr Brettison, sir," and she drew back to admit a spare
+looking, grey man, dressed in dark tweed, who removed his soft felt hat
+and threw it, with a botanist's vasculum and a heavy oaken stick, upon
+an easy-chair, as he watched the departure of the porter's wife before
+turning quickly and, with tears in his eyes, grasping Stratton's hands
+and shaking them warmly.
+
+"My dear boy," he said, in a voice full of emotion, "God bless you!
+Happiness to you!  God bless you both!"
+
+"My dear old friend!" cried Stratton.  "Thank you; for Myra, too.  But
+come, you've repented.  You will join the wedding party after all?"
+
+"I?  Oh, no, no, my boy.  I'm no wedding guest.  Why, Malcolm, I should
+be a regular ancient mariner without the glittering eye."
+
+"I am sorry.  I should have liked you to be present," said Stratton
+warmly.
+
+"I know it, my boy, I know it; but no; don't press me.  I couldn't bear
+it.  I was to have been married, my dear boy.  I was young, if not as
+handsome as you.  But,"--there was a pause--"she died," he added in a
+whisper.  "I could not bear to come."
+
+"Mr Brettison!"
+
+"There," cried the visitor with forced gaiety, "just what I said.  No,
+my dear Malcolm.  No, no, my boy.  I'm better away."
+
+Stratton was silent, and his neighbour went on hastily:
+
+"I heard you packing, and knocking about, but I wouldn't disturb you, my
+dear boy.  I'm off, too: a week's collecting in the New Forest.  Write
+to me very soon, and my dear love to your sweet wife--an angel,
+Malcolm--a blessing to you, my boy.  Tell her to let you gather a few of
+the mountain flowers to send me.  Ask her to pick a few herself and I'll
+kiss them as coming from her."
+
+"I'll tell her, sir."
+
+"That's right; and, Malcolm, my boy, I'm quite alone in the world, where
+I should not have been now if you had not broken in my door and came and
+nursed me back to life, dying as I was from that deadly fever."
+
+"My dear Mr Brettison, if ever you mention that trifle of neighbourly
+service again we are no longer friends," cried Stratton.
+
+"Trifle of neighbourly service!" said the old man, laying his hands
+affectionately upon the other's shoulders.  "You risked your life, boy,
+to save that of one who would fain have died.  But Heaven knows best,
+Malcolm, and I've been a happier man since, for it has seemed to me as
+if I had a son.  Now, one word more and I am going.  I've a train to
+catch.  Tell your dear young wife that Edward Brettison has watched your
+career--that the man who was poor and struggled so hard to place himself
+in a position to win her will never be poor again: for I have made you
+my heir, Malcolm, and God bless you, my boy.  Good-bye; write soon."
+
+"Mr Brettison!" cried Stratton, in amaze.
+
+"Hush!"
+
+The door opened, and Mrs Brade reappeared with a black reticule in one
+hand and a ruddy telegram envelope in the other.
+
+"I see, wanted already," said the old man, hastily catching up hat,
+stick, and collecting box, and hurrying out without another word.
+
+"Telegram, sir; and there's the change, sir."
+
+"Eh!  The notes?  Thank you, Mrs Brade," said Stratton hurriedly, and
+taking the packet he laid them on the table and placed a bronze letter
+weight to keep them down.  "That will do, thank you, Mrs Brade.  Tell
+your husband to fetch my luggage, and meet me at Charing Cross.  He'll
+take a cab, of course."
+
+"I shall be there, too, sir, never you fear," said the porter's wife,
+with a smile, as she left the room, Stratton hurriedly tearing open the
+envelope the while, and reading as the door closed:
+
+  No bride's bouquet.  What a shame!  See to it at once.
+
+  Edie.
+
+"Confound!" ejaculated Stratton; "and after all their promises.  Here,
+Mrs Brade, quick.  Gone!"
+
+He threw open the door to call the woman back, but before he could open
+his lips she had returned.
+
+"A gen--gentleman to see you, sir, on business."
+
+"Engaged.  Cannot see anyone.  Look here, Mrs Brade."
+
+"Mr Malcolm Stratton, I presume," said a heavily built man with a
+florid face, greyish hair, and closely cut foreign looking hair.
+
+"My name, sir, but I am particularly engaged this morning.  If you have
+business with me you must write."
+
+This at the doorway, with Mrs Brade standing a little back on the stone
+landing.
+
+"No time for writing," said the stranger sternly.  "Business too
+important.  Needn't wait, Mrs what's-your-name," he continued, turning
+upon the woman so sharply that she began to hurry down the stairs.
+
+"I don't care how important your mission is, sir," cried Stratton; "I
+cannot give you an interview this morning.  If you have anything to say
+you must write.  My business--"
+
+"I know," said the man coolly: "going to be married."
+
+Stratton took a step back, and his visitor one forward into the room,
+turned, closed the outer door, and, before Stratton could recover from
+his surprise, the inner door, and pointed to a chair.
+
+"Sit down," said the man, and he took another chair and sat back in it.
+
+"Well of all the audacious--!" began Stratton, with a half laugh; but he
+was interrupted.
+
+"Don't waste words, sir; no time.  The lady will be waiting."
+
+As he spoke Stratton saw the man's eyes rest for a moment on the
+banknotes beneath the letter weight, and an undefined sensation of
+uneasiness attacked him.  He mastered it in an instant, ignoring the
+last remark.
+
+"Now, sir; you say you have business with me.  Let me hear it, since I
+must--at once."
+
+"Ah, that's businesslike.  We shall be able to deal."
+
+"Say what you have to say."
+
+"When you sit down."
+
+Stratton let himself fall back into a chair.
+
+"Now then.  Quick!"
+
+"You propose being married this morning."
+
+"I do," said Stratton, with a sort of dread lest even then there should
+be some obstacle in the way.
+
+"Well, then, you can't; that's all."
+
+"What!" cried Stratton fiercely.  "Who says so?"
+
+"I do.  But keep cool, young man.  This is business."
+
+"Yes; I'll be cool," said Stratton, mastering himself again, and
+adopting his visitor's cynical manner.  "So let me ask you, sir, who you
+may be, and what is your object in coming?"
+
+The man did not answer for a moment, but let his eyes rest again upon
+the notes.
+
+"I say, who are you, sir?"
+
+"I?  Oh, nobody of any importance," said the man, with an insolent
+laugh.
+
+Stratton sprang up, and the visitor thrust his hand behind him.
+
+"No nonsense, Mr Malcolm.  I tell you this is business.  Without my
+consent you cannot marry Myra Barron, formerly Myra Jerrold, this
+morning."
+
+"I say, who are you, sir?" cried Stratton furiously.
+
+"James Barron, my dear sir--the lady's husband."
+
+"Good God!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWO.
+
+TWO SHOTS FROM A REVOLVER.
+
+Malcolm Stratton started back with his eyes wild and his face ghastly,
+just as there was the faint sound of steps on the stone stairs, and
+directly after someone gave a long-continued double knock on the outer
+door.
+
+"Company, eh?" said the man, rising.  "Get rid of him.  I've a lot to
+say.  I'll go in here."
+
+He went straight to the doorway on the right of the fireplace.
+
+"No, no," cried Stratton harshly; "that is a false door."
+
+"False door?" said the man; "is this?"
+
+He laid his hand upon the other on the left of the fireplace, and opened
+it.
+
+"All right.  Bath room.  I'll go in here."
+
+As the man shut himself in Stratton reeled as if he would have fallen,
+but a second _rat-tat_ upon the little brass knocker brought him to
+himself, and, after a glance at the closet door, he opened that of the
+entry, and then the outer door, to admit a good looking, fair-haired
+young fellow of about five-and-twenty, most scrupulously dressed, a
+creamy rose in his buttonhole, and a look of vexation in his merry face
+as he stood looking at his white kid gloves.
+
+"I say, old chap," he cried, "I shall kill your housekeeper.  She must
+have black-leaded that knocker.  Morning.  How are you.  Pretty well
+ready?"
+
+"Ready?" said Stratton hurriedly.  "No, not yet.  I'm sure I--"
+
+"Why, hullo, old chap; what's the matter?"
+
+"Matter?  Nothing, nothing."
+
+"Well, you look precious seedy.  White about the gills.  Why, hang it,
+Malcolm, don't take it like that.  Fancy you being nervous.  What about?
+Packed up, I see."
+
+"Yes--yes."
+
+"Wish it was my turn," continued the newcomer.  "Might as well have been
+two couples: Mr and Mrs Malcolm Stratton; Mr and Mrs Percy Guest.
+Why, I say, old chap, you are ill."
+
+"No, no," cried Stratton hurriedly; and a sudden thought struck him.
+
+Catching up the telegram from the table, he handed it to his friend.
+
+"Hullo!  Nothing serious?  Poof!  What a molehill mountain.  You
+shouldn't let a thing like this agitate your noble nerves.  Bless the
+dear little woman.  I'll run on to Common Garden, Central Avenue, as we
+say in some suckles, bully the beggar for not sending it, start him, and
+be back for you in a jiffy."
+
+"No, no," cried Stratton excitedly, "don't trust them.  Get the bouquet,
+and take it yourself.  Don't come back.  I'll meet you at the church."
+
+"All right, old chap.  Your slave obeys.  Only, I say, I would have a
+duet--S. and B.--before I started.  Screw up, and don't come with a face
+like that."
+
+The speaker went to the door, opened it, and looking round laughingly:
+"Precious dull; I'll tell 'em to turn on the sun," he said, and hurried
+out.
+
+As the outer door closed Stratton darted to the inner and shut it,
+while, as he turned, his unwelcome visitor stepped out of the bath
+room--evidently formerly a passage leading into the next chamber--and
+returned to his chair, "Best man--bouquets--carriages waiting--church--
+wedding breakfast," he said laughingly.  "By Jove!  I could drink a
+tumbler of champagne."
+
+By this time Stratton had grown firmer, and, pointing to the door, he
+cried:
+
+"Look here, sir; I'll have no more of this.  You are an impostor.  I
+don't know where you obtained your information, but if you have come to
+levy blackmail on the strength of such a mad tale, you have failed; so
+go."
+
+"To my wife?"
+
+"To the police-station if you dare to threaten me.  Look here: James
+Barron, otherwise James Dale, died two years ago."
+
+"Then he has come to life again, that's all," said the man coolly.
+"Now, look here, you; I've not come to quarrel.  I call on you, and of
+course it must be just dampening at such a time, but, you see, I had no
+option.  It wasn't likely that--be cool, will you?  Let that poker
+rest!"
+
+He spoke savagely, and took a revolver from a hip pocket.
+
+"I say it wasn't likely that you would be pleased to see me, and I'm not
+surprised at your crying impostor, because, as I well enough know, the
+papers said I was dead, and for the past two years my beautiful little
+wife has worn her widow's weeds."
+
+Stratton made a gesture to start forward, but the man sat back in his
+chair and raised the pistol.
+
+"I'm a very good shot," he said coolly.  "Be quiet and listen.  I'm an
+impostor, am I?  I was not married to Myra Jerrold, I suppose, directly
+after the old man had taken her for a continental tour with pretty,
+merry little Edie Perrin.  Bless her--sweet little girl!  I'd rather
+have had her if she had possessed Myra's money.  It's all right, my dear
+sir.  I can give you chapter and verse, and commas and full stops, too,
+if you want satisfying.  But you do not; you know it's all true.  Why
+don't I put in my claims?  Well, there is that little unpleasantness
+with the police, and that is why," he continued as he toyed with the
+revolver.  "I object to your calling them in to interfere.  No, Mr
+Malcolm Stratton, I shall not let you call them in for more reasons than
+one.  Ah! you begin to believe me.  Let me see now, can I give you a
+little corroborative evidence?  You don't want it, but I will.  Did the
+admiral ever tell you what an excellent player I was at piquet?"
+
+Stratton started.
+
+"Yes, I see he did.  And how I used to sing `La ci darem' with Myra, and
+played the accompaniment myself?  Yes, he told you that, too.  My dear
+sir, I have a hundred little facts of this kind to tell you, including
+my race after Myra's horse when it took fright and she was thrown.  By
+the way, has the tiny little red scar faded from her white temple yet?"
+
+Stratton's face was ghastly now.
+
+"I see I need say no more, sir.  You are convinced Myra is my wife.
+There has been no divorce, you see, so you are at my mercy."
+
+"But she is not at yours," cried Stratton fiercely.  "You go back to
+your cell, sir, and she will never be polluted by the touch of such a
+scoundrel again."
+
+"Polluted?  Strong language, young man, and you are losing your temper.
+Once more, be cool.  You see I have this, and I am not a man to be
+trifled with.  I do not intend to go back to my cell: I had enough of
+that yonder, but mean to take my ease for the future.  These chambers
+are secluded; a noise here is not likely to be heard, and I should
+proceed to extremities if you forced me."
+
+"You dare to threaten me?"
+
+"Yes, I dare to threaten you, my dear sir.  But keep cool, I tell you.
+I didn't come here to quarrel, but to do a little business.  Did you
+expect me?  I see you have the money ready."
+
+He pointed to the notes--notes to defray a blissful honeymoon trip--and
+Stratton had hard work to suppress a groan.
+
+"There, I'm very sorry for you, my dear sir," continued the scoundrel,
+"and I want to be friendly, both to you and poor little Myra--good
+little soul!  She thought me dead; you thought me dead; and I dare say
+you love each other like pigeons.  Next thing, I admired her, but she
+never cared a sou for me.  Well, suppose I say that I'll be dead to
+oblige you both.  What do you say to that?"
+
+Malcolm was silent.
+
+"I never wanted the poor little lass.  Frankly, I wanted her money, and
+the admiral's too--hang the old rascal, he won about fifty pounds of me.
+But to continue.  Now, Mr Malcolm Stratton, time is flying, and the
+lady will soon be at the church, where you must be first.  I tell you
+that I will consent to keep under the tombstone where the law and
+society have placed me, for a handsome consideration.  What do you
+propose?"
+
+"To hand you over to the police," said Stratton firmly, but with despair
+in his tone.
+
+"No, you do not.  You propose to give me the money on the table there,
+to sign an agreement to pay me three hundred a year as long as I keep
+dead, and then to go and wed your pretty widow, and be off to the
+continent or elsewhere."
+
+Bigamy--blackmailed by a scoundrel who would make his life a hell--
+through constant threats to claim his wife--a score of such thoughts
+flashed through Stratton's brain as he stood there before the cool,
+calculating villain watching him so keenly.  Money was no object to him.
+Mr Brettison would let him have any amount, but it was madness to
+think of such a course.  There was only one other--to free the innocent,
+pure woman he idolised from the persecution of such a wretch, and the
+law would enable him to do that.
+
+Malcolm Stratton's mind was made up, and he stood there gazing full in
+his visitor's eyes.
+
+"Well," said the man coolly, "time is on the wing, as I said before.
+How much is there under that letter weight?"
+
+"One hundred and fifty pounds," said Stratton quietly.
+
+"Write me a cheque for three hundred and fifty pounds then, and the
+bargain is closed."
+
+"Not for a penny," said Stratton quietly.
+
+"You will.  The lady is waiting."
+
+"So are the police."
+
+"What!" cried the man, rising slowly and with a menacing look in his
+countenance.  "No fooling, sir.  You see this, and you know I shall not
+be trifled with.  Once more let me remind you that a noise here would
+hardly be heard outside.  But you are not serious.  The prize for you is
+too great.  Police?  How could you marry the lady then?  Do you think my
+proud, prudish little Myra would take you, knowing me to be alive?
+Stop, will you?" he cried with a savage growl like that of a wild beast,
+"or, by all that's holy--Here, what are you going to do, fool?"
+
+"Summon the police," cried Stratton, who was half-way to the door, as
+the man sprang at him with the activity of a panther.
+
+For the next minute there was a desperate struggle, as the men wrestled
+here and there, both moved by one object--the possession of the deadly
+weapon.
+
+Then one arm was freed, there was the sharp report of a pistol, and a
+puff of ill smelling smoke partially hid the struggling pair.
+
+Another shot with the smoke more dense.
+
+A heavy fall.
+
+Then silence--deathlike and strange.
+
+Outside, on the staircase a floor higher, a door was opened; there were
+steps on the stone landing, and a voice shouted down the well: "Anything
+the matter?"  After a moment another voice was heard: "Nonsense--
+nothing.  Someone banged his oak."  There was the sound of people going
+back into the room above, and in the silence which followed, broken only
+by the faintly heard strain of some street music at a distance, the door
+below, on the first floor landing, was opened a little way, the fingers
+of a hand appearing round the edge, and a portion of a man's head came
+slowly out, as if its owner was listening.
+
+The door was closed once more as softly as it was opened, and the sun,
+which had been hidden all the morning by leaden clouds, sent a bright
+sheaf of golden rays through the dust-incrusted staircase window,
+straight on to the drab-painted outer door, with the occupant's name
+thereon in black letters:
+
+Mr Malcolm Stratton.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THREE.
+
+A BAD QUARTER OF AN HOUR.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"You rang, sir."
+
+"No, confound you!  I did not ring."
+
+"Beg pardon, sir, I'm sure, sir.  Electric bell's a little out of order,
+sir.  Tell-tales show wrong numbers, sir."
+
+"I engaged a suite of private rooms in this hotel, and there's not a bit
+of privacy."
+
+"Very sorry, sir, indeed."
+
+"And look here, waiter."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"When you address me it is customary to say Sir Mark."
+
+"Of course, Sir Mark; my mistake, Sir Mark.  I'll mind in future."
+
+"Has the carriage arrived?"
+
+"Not yet, Sir Mark."
+
+"Thank you; that will do.  No; a moment.  The wedding breakfast.
+Everything is quite ready, I hope?"
+
+"The head waiter has it in 'and, Sir Mark, and the table looks lovely."
+
+"Thanks.  Ahem! a trifle now.  I shall remember you when I leave.  I
+spoke a little testily just this minute.  A little out of order, waiter.
+Touch of my old fever, caught in the East."
+
+The waiter smiled and bowed as he pocketed a new five-shilling piece,
+and looked with fresh interest at the fine looking, florid, elderly man
+who kept pacing the room with a newspaper in his hand as he talked.
+
+"Anything more I can do, Sir Mark, before I leave the room?"
+
+"Hang it all, no, sir," cried the old officer, flashing out once more
+irritably.  "This is not a public dinner, and I have given you a vail."
+
+"Of course, Sir Mark; and I didn't mean--"
+
+"Then why did you use that confounded old stereotyped waiter's
+expression?  I wonder you did not hand me a toothpick."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Sir Mark, I'm sure."
+
+"Go and read `Peter Simple,' and take Chuck's, the boatswain's, words to
+heart."
+
+"Certainly, Sir Mark," and the waiter hurried to the door, leaving
+Admiral Sir Mark Jerrold muttering, and in time to admit a charmingly
+dressed, fair-haired bridesmaid in palest blue, and wearing a handsome
+diamond locket at her throat, and a few bright pearls on her cheeks,
+living pearls, just escaped from her pretty, red-rimmed eyes.
+
+"`Trencher scraping--shilling seeking--napkin carrying.'  Ah, Edie, my
+darling--all ready?"
+
+"Yes, uncle, dear; but, oh, you do look cross!"
+
+She clung to his arm and put up her lips to kiss the old man, whose face
+softened at her touch.
+
+"No, no, my dear, not cross; only worried and irritable.  Hang it, Edie,
+my pet, it's a horrible wrench to lose her.  No hope of that scoundrel
+Stratton breaking his neck, or repenting, or anything, is there?"
+
+"Oh, uncle dear, don't.  Myra is so happy.  She does love him so."
+
+"And her poor old father's nobody now."
+
+"You don't think so, uncle," said the girl, smiling through her tears,
+as she rearranged the old officer's tie, and gave a dainty touch to the
+stephanotis in the buttonhole of his blue frock coat.  "And you know you
+want to see her happily married to the man she loves, and who loves her
+with all his heart."
+
+"Heigho!  I suppose so."
+
+"And I've come down to ask if you'd like to see her.  They're just
+putting the last finishing touches."
+
+"So we may," cried Sir Mark eagerly.  "Does she look nice?"
+
+"Lovely, uncle; all but--"
+
+The girl ceased speaking, and looked conscious.
+
+"Eh?  All but what?"
+
+"You will see, uncle, directly.  I will not say any more about it.  She
+would have her own way."
+
+"Here, I'll come at once."
+
+"No, no, uncle dear; I'll go and fetch her down."
+
+"And make a parade of her all through this confounded caravanserai of an
+hotel!" cried the old man testily.  "I can't think why she persisted in
+having it away from home."
+
+"Yes, you can, uncle dear," said the girl soothingly.  "It was very,
+very natural.  But do, do be gentle with her.  She is so ready to burst
+into tears, and I want her to go off as happy as the day."
+
+"Of course, Edie, my dear; of course.  I'll bottle it all up, and then
+you and your old fool of an uncle can have a good cry together all to
+ourselves, eh?  But I say, little one, no hitches this time in the
+anchorage."
+
+"There very nearly was one, uncle."
+
+"What!" roared the old man, flushing.
+
+"But I set it right with a telegram."
+
+"What--what was it?  Stratton going to shuffle?"
+
+"Oh, uncle, absurd!  The bouquet for the bride had not come."
+
+"Pooh!  A woman can be married without a bouquet."
+
+"No, no, uncle!  But I sent off a message, and Mr Guest brought it
+himself."
+
+"Then he has been again."
+
+"Uncle!  Why, he's Malcolm Stratton's best man."
+
+"He's the worst man I know.  I loathe him."
+
+"You don't, uncle."
+
+"Yes, I do, and I'm not blind.  Do you suppose I want to be left to a
+desolate old age.  Isn't it bad enough to lose Myra without--"
+
+"Oh, uncle!" cried the girl, whose cheeks were crimson, "there isn't a
+moment to lose;" and she darted to the door, leaving the admiral
+chuckling.
+
+"A wicked little pirate!  How soon she showed the red flag aloft.  Ah,
+well, it's nature--nature, and one mustn't be selfish.  Not much chance.
+I don't know what we're born for, unless it's to be slaves to other
+people."
+
+He turned over his newspaper, and began running down the list of
+marriages.
+
+"Here they are," he muttered, "all going the same way," and he stood
+musing sadly upon the question of the young women's quitting the old
+hives, till the door was opened again and Edie Perrin ushered in her
+cousin, tall, graceful, and with that indescribable look of love and
+happiness seen in a bride's eyes on her wedding morn.
+
+"Here she is, uncle," cried Edie, who then uttered a sob, and rushed
+away with a rustling noise to hide the tears she could not restrain.
+
+"My darling!" cried the old man huskily as he drew his child to his
+breast; "and am I to feel that it is quite right, and that you are
+happy?"
+
+"Oh, so happy, father; so content at last--at last," she whispered as
+she clung to him lovingly.  "Only there is one thing."
+
+"Eh?  What--what?" cried the admiral excitedly.
+
+"Leaving home and you."
+
+The old man drew a deep breath full of relief.
+
+"Oh, pooh, pooh, nonsense, my pet," he cried, looking at her beautiful
+pensive face proudly; "don't mind that; I'm glad of it."
+
+"Glad, father?"
+
+"No, no, not to lose you, my darling, but for you to go away with the
+man you love and who loves you.  I hate him for taking you, but he is a
+splendid fellow, Myra.  What a sailor he would have made!"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"If they had not spoiled him by getting all that natural history stuff
+in his head.  But I say, my darling," he continued as he held his child
+at arm's length, admiring her, but pushing up his hand.
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"Isn't this a little too--too punctilious?  Very lovely, dear; you look
+all that a man could wish for, but it's a wedding, my pet, and you--you
+do not quite look like a bride."
+
+"What do the looks matter?" she said with a dreamy look in her large
+eyes.
+
+"Well, I don't know.  Woman ought to please her husband, and isn't it a
+mistake to dress--well, to parade that nonsense about your being a
+widow."
+
+"Nonsense, dear?" said Myra, smiling sadly.  "It was no nonsense.
+Whatever that man may have been I swore at the altar to be his faithful
+wife."
+
+"Till death did you part, eh?  Yes, yes, yes," said the admiral testily,
+"but he's dead and gone and forgotten; there is no need to dig him up
+again."
+
+"Papa!"
+
+"Well, I mean by going to what will be a real wedding in half mourning."
+
+"Malcolm agreed that I was right, dear."
+
+"Oh, then I'm wrong.  Only, if I had known, I should have put my foot
+down--hard.  Why, even Edie was hinting at it just now."
+
+"Let the past rest, dear," said Myra gently.
+
+"After this morning--yes, my darling.  But I always feel as if I ought
+to apologise to you, Myra."
+
+"No, no, dear."
+
+"But I say yes.  The clever, plausible scoundrel dazzled me, and I
+thought your opposition only maidenly shrinking.  Yes, dazzled me, with
+his wit and cheery manners, knowledge of the world, and such a game,
+too, as he played at piquet.  It was ashore, you see, and he was too
+much for me.  If I'd had him at sea it would have been different.  I was
+to blame all through--but you forgive me all the misery I caused you?"
+
+"My dear father!"
+
+"Ah, there I am crushing your dress again.  Stratton's a lucky dog, and
+we'll think it was all for the best."
+
+"Of course, dear."
+
+"Showed what a good true-hearted fellow he was--sort of probationer,
+eh?"
+
+Myra turned her head.  She could not speak--only clung to the parent she
+was so soon to leave.
+
+"Then good-bye to James Barron, alias Dale, and all his works, Myra.
+Oh, dear me!  In a very short time it will be Mrs Malcolm Stratton, and
+I shall be all alone."
+
+"No, you will not, uncle," said Edie, who had entered unobserved after
+letting off a fusillade of sobs outside the door, and her pretty grey
+eyes a little redder, "and you are not to talk like that to Myra; she
+wants comforting.  Uncle will not be alone, dear, for I shall do all I
+can to make him happy."
+
+"Bah!  A jade, a cheat, my dear.  Don't believe her," cried the admiral
+merrily; "she has a strange Guest in her eye--Hotspur--Percy.  Look at
+her."
+
+"Don't, Myra dear.  Kiss uncle and come back to your room," and after a
+loving embrace between father and daughter the bridesmaid carried off
+the bride to the room where the travelling trunks lay ready packed, the
+bridal veil on a chair; and after the last touches had been given to the
+bride's toilet, the cousins were left alone.
+
+"Now, Myra darling, any more commands for me about uncle?  We may not
+have another chance."
+
+"No, dear," said the bride thoughtfully.  "I could say nothing you will
+not think of for yourself.  Don't let him miss me, dear."
+
+"You know I will not.  Bless you, pet; you happy darling, you've won the
+best husband in the world.  But how funny it seems to have to go through
+all this again."
+
+"Hush, dear.  Don't--pray don't talk about it."
+
+"I can't help it, Myra; my tongue will talk this morning.  Oh, I am so
+glad that it will be all right this time."
+
+Myra's brow contracted a little, but her cousin rattled on.
+
+"It has always seemed to me such stuff to talk of you as a widow.  Oh,
+Myra, don't look like that.  What a stupid, thoughtless thing I am."
+
+She flung her arms about her cousin, and was again bursting into tears
+when there was a tap at the door, and she shrank away.
+
+"Come in."
+
+One of the lady's maids appeared.
+
+"Sir Mark says, ma'am, that the carriages are waiting, and Miss Jerrold
+will not come up."
+
+Myra took her bouquet and turned calmly to her cousin as the maid burst
+out with:
+
+"God bless you, Miss Myra--I mean madame.  May you be very happy."
+
+The second maid was at hand to second the wish, and the pair performed a
+duet in sobs as the cousins swept down the broad staircase to the
+admiral's room.
+
+"Time, my dear, time," cried Sir Mark jovially.  "Come, Edie, aunt will
+be furious if you keep her any longer."
+
+Edie took his arm, but dropped it again to run and kiss her cousin once
+again.  Then tripping to the old man's side he led her down the broad
+staircase and across the hall, now pretty well thronged with visitors,
+and the servants in the background to see the departure.
+
+A carriage was in waiting, with a tall, stern looking, grey lady inside.
+
+"Late, Mark," she said sharply.  "Come Edie, my child, and let's get it
+over."
+
+"You're all alike," said the admiral, as the bridesmaid took her place,
+the carriage started, and with head erect the old sailor strode back,
+seeing nobody, and went up to his room, to return soon after, amid a
+buzz of whispering, proudly leading down the bride.
+
+"And only one bridesmaid," whispered a lady visitor at the hotel.
+
+"Young widow--very private affair--by the lady's wish," was whispered
+back loudly enough for Myra and her father to hear as they passed down
+the steps.
+
+"Let them chatter," said the old man to himself.  "They haven't seen
+such a bride for years."
+
+Quite a little crowd followed to the hotel door, there was a general
+waving of handkerchiefs, and one lady threw a bouquet of white roses as
+the carriage door was shut with a bang, the servant sprang up, and the
+next moment the admiral's handsome pair of bays dashed off toward the
+great West End church.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOUR.
+
+THE SCENE OF SHAME.
+
+"Poor old chap!" said Percy Guest, with a laugh.  "Married?  Looked as
+if he was going to be hanged.  Wonder whether I shall be as nervous and
+upset if--if--I ought to say when--it comes off?  No, not likely, bless
+her.  Might be all in a fidget to get it over for fear of a slip, but I
+don't think I should look like that."
+
+He was approaching the church as these ideas ran through his head, and a
+glance at the clock showed him that he was half an hour too soon,
+consequent upon being hurried off by his friend.
+
+"What shall I do?" he thought.  "No time to go anywhere else; I'll drop
+in and hang about in the church as if I did not belong to the party."
+
+Easier said than done.  Already there was a little crowd collecting,
+attracted by the carpet laid up the steps--a little gathering of the
+people who always do attend weddings--those who wait till the bride
+arrives and then hurry in to see the service, and those who, being in
+charge of perambulators, keep entirely outside and block up pavement and
+porch.  Then, too, there were the customary maiden ladies, the officials
+of the church, the bell ringers, the woman from the crossing at the
+corner of the square in a clean apron, the butchers', bakers', and
+fishmongers' boys, and the children--especially those in a top-heavy
+condition from carrying other children, nearly as big as themselves.
+
+Percy Guest was conscious of a whisper and a buzzing sound as he walked
+through the gates in what he intended to be a nonchalant fashion, but
+which proved to be very conscious, and then most conscious as a boy
+cried:
+
+"'Ere he is, Bill!"
+
+Fortunately the church door was close at hand, but before he entered he
+was aware that the turncock had joined the throng with three bright
+instruments over his shoulder, as if his services were likely to be
+wanted toward the end.
+
+Percy Guest breathed more freely as he stepped into the gloom of the
+silent church, but was again disconcerted by the beadle in his best
+gold-braided coat, holding open a green baize door and two pew openers
+stepping forward apparently bent upon showing him the way up to the
+chancel.
+
+"Thanks: I'll just look round," he said carelessly; but the words did
+not convey his meaning, and as he walked slowly into one of the side
+aisles to study tablets and monuments, he could not read a word for
+thinking that the two pew openers had seen through him.
+
+"What a fool I am!" he muttered.  "Of course they know.  Even smell me.
+Wish I hadn't used that scent."
+
+An archaeologist could not have taken more apparent interest than he in
+that tablet covered with lines of all lengths, setting forth the good
+qualities of Robert Smith, "late of this parish," but the study was
+accompanied by furtive glances at a watch during the longest quarter of
+an hour the young man ever remembered to have spent.
+
+But it ended at last.
+
+"He'll soon be here now," he said to himself as, carrying his new hat
+behind him, he made for another tablet nearer the chancel, while divers
+whispers behind him told of pews being filled by those who wished to
+have good places, and so another five minutes passed.
+
+"Time he was here," thought the early arrival; and summoning his
+fortitude ready for being stared at and commented upon, he walked
+quietly toward the chancel, faced round, and waited, staring blankly at
+the three or four score of faces watching him eagerly.
+
+"Pleasant!" he said to himself.  "Must be some of the friends here, but
+how confoundedly awkward I do feel.  I hate these quiet weddings.
+Company's good, even if you're going to be hanged.  Why isn't Stratton
+here?"
+
+There were fresh arrivals every minute, and Guest gazed anxiously now
+toward the door, but the arrivals were all female; and save that the
+clerk or verger was arranging cushions and books up by the communion
+table, he was alone, and the centre upon which all eyes were fixed.
+
+"I've done wrong," muttered Guest as he mastered a strong desire to look
+at his watch, which he knew must now be within five minutes of the time.
+"I ought to have gone back and brought him on.  It's too bad to leave
+me here like this."
+
+If he could have taken out his handkerchief to have wiped the gathering
+drops away from his temples he would not have cared so much, for they
+produced a terrible itching sensation.  But no; he must seem cool and
+collected.
+
+He was conscious now of talking somewhere behind him, in the vestry
+evidently, a deep utterance suggestive of intoning a service, and a
+harsh, sharp voice.
+
+The clergyman and just then the clerk came down, passed close by, looked
+at him, went and opened a pew door, and returned to approach him again
+with a deprecative cough, as if he were about to speak, but he passed on
+again, and went back into the vestry.
+
+"Took me for the bridegroom," muttered Guest to himself.  "Stratton, you
+scoundrel, why don't you come?  Oh!  I'll pay you out for this."
+
+At last!  For a figure appeared at the other end of the church.  No; it
+turned into a pew half-way down the centre aisle, and Guest became cold
+with apprehension as the organ began to peal forth its softest notes to
+a hushed, shuddering bass, while Guest looked wildly down the church,
+where, to his horror, there stood a figure in company with a tall,
+sedate, grey-haired lady dressed in grey; and as these figures
+approached he for a few moments forgot his agony in a long, rapt
+contemplation of the bridesmaid's face.
+
+Then he could bear it no longer, and he was about to rush out and go in
+search of Stratton when he felt that it was too late, for already the
+admiral was at the door with the bride, and Edie and Miss Jerrold were
+at his side.
+
+He gave Edie one quick glance full of agony, and then in a hurried
+whisper to the admiral's sister:
+
+"Miss Jerrold, for goodness' sake ask Sir Mark to step into the vestry.
+Stratton has not come."
+
+Too late--too late!  The organ was still giving forth its introductory
+strain; the two clergymen moved out of the vestry, and took their
+places; Sir Mark and Myra were close up, and the clerk came forward and
+signed to Guest to stand in the bridegroom's place.
+
+Before he could think, the admiral's lips were close to his ear, and the
+sharp whisper thrilled him as if it had been a roar.
+
+"Where's Stratton?"
+
+"I--he was to meet me--I--I'll go and see."
+
+The words were stammered forth in a whisper, and no one better than he
+felt how tame and paltry they sounded, while as, hat in hand, he hurried
+down the aisle, running the gauntlet of a couple of hundred eyes, it
+seemed as if they stung him, that the looks were more mocking than
+wondering, while, raging with annoyance, the few yards felt lengthened
+out into a mile.
+
+Through the baize doors, and under the portico, but no sign of the
+brougham with the pair of greys that was to bring the bridegroom.
+
+What to do; jump into a hansom and bid the man gallop to Benchers' Inn?
+
+It would take best part of an hour, and Stratton must be there directly.
+He would wait and see, even if everyone in the crowd was staring at him
+wonderingly, while the cold sweat stood out in big drops upon his face.
+
+"What is the meaning of this?" said a stern voice at his elbow, and
+Guest turned to face the admiral, whose florid countenance was mottled
+with white.
+
+A few words of explanation followed and then:
+
+"I'll take a hansom and gallop off to his chambers."
+
+"No," said Sir Mark in a low, hoarse voice.  "An insult to my child!  It
+is atrocious!"
+
+The old man turned and strode back, while, hardly knowing what he did,
+Guest followed him between the two rows of curious faces to where Myra
+stood, perfectly firm and self-contained, while Edie was trembling
+visibly, and clinging to Miss Jerrold's arm.
+
+As Sir Mark reached his daughter there was a loud whispering in the
+church, which was suppressed by several hushes! as one of the clergymen
+approached the wedding party, all present being eager to catch his words
+as the _contretemps_ was now grasped.
+
+"Will you step into the vestry for a few minutes?  Some trifling mishap,
+perhaps--to the carriage or one of the horses.  Perhaps an error about
+the time."
+
+"No, no," said the admiral sternly.  "We will wait here, sir.  No; Myra,
+take my arm; you shall not submit to this."
+
+She was deadly pale, but she made no movement to obey.
+
+"Not yet," she said in a low voice.  "We must wait."
+
+"It is impossible, I tell you!" cried the admiral loudly, for his rage
+and mortification would have their way.  "My dear girl!  Hold up your
+head; the shame is not yours.  Guest, take my sister and niece to the
+other carriage."  Then, snatching Myra's hand, he led her back to the
+door, his grey beard and moustache seeming to bristle as his eyes
+flashed rage and defiance from side to side, till they reached the
+portico, where a man stepped forward.
+
+"The bells, sir?" he whispered deferentially; "the ringers are all
+here?"
+
+That was the last straw--a brazen one.
+
+With an angry snort the admiral caught the man by the shoulder and swung
+him out of the way, signalling directly after for his carriage, which,
+as the coachman and footman had not expected to be wanted for some time
+yet, stood right away, with the servants chatting by the horses' heads.
+
+Not above a minute before the carriage was drawn up, but it was like an
+age to those who listened to the whispering and giggling going on.
+
+For the words "No bridegroom!" had reached the little crowd outside as
+soon as the retiring wedding party; and as Guest heard a remark or two
+made, there was a singing in his ears, and an insane desire to rush at
+some staring idiot and thrash him within an inch of his life.
+
+But he glanced at Myra as he pressed Edie's hand against his side, and
+saw that the bride's head was erect and that she stepped proudly into
+the carriage.  Then the admiral took his seat by her side and said
+firmly:
+
+"Home!"
+
+"To the hotel, sir?" said the footman.
+
+"Home!" roared Sir Mark.
+
+The footman sprang up to his seat, the carriage was driven off, and with
+the crowd increasing Miss Jerrold's took its place.
+
+"Quick, Mr Guest," whispered the admiral's sister.  "She is fainting."
+
+He had felt Edie's hand pressing more and more upon his arm, but in his
+excitement this had not struck him as extraordinary; but now, as his
+attention was drawn to her, she dropped her bouquet, and in his effort
+to save her from sinking to the pavement the beautiful bunch of flowers
+was crushed under foot.
+
+The next minute he had lifted the poor girl into the carriage, and
+handed the admiral's stern looking sister to her side.
+
+Darting a look of agony at Edie's white face and the wreath and veil
+fallen aside, Guest drew back for the door to be closed, but Miss
+Jerrold made an imperious sign.
+
+"No, no; come with us," she said hoarsely.  "You must help me; and
+explain.  I dare not face my brother alone."
+
+Guest sprang into the carriage, the door was shut quickly, and the
+footman leaped to his place as the horses started forward with a loud
+trampling of hoofs, but not quickly enough to take them beyond the
+hearing of a derisive cheer.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIVE.
+
+A BRAVE DEFENCE.
+
+"The hotel!  The idiot!  To want to take us back there to face the
+half-hidden mockery and jokes of all those strangers.  Oh, it's
+maddening!"
+
+Sir Mark leaned forward, lowered the front window, and shouted to the
+coachman to drive faster.
+
+"I saw them," he continued as he flung himself back in his seat, "the
+whole mob in the church sniggling with delight.  Curse them!  And that
+fellow, Stratton!  If ever we stand face to face again I'll--Oh, I hope
+he will never have the audacity to come near me, for his own sake."
+
+Myra had been sitting perfectly upright, looking as if suffering from
+some cataleptic seizure; but at the mention of Stratton she turned and
+laid her hand upon her father's arm.
+
+"Oh, yes, of course!" he raged, with a mocking laugh.  "Womanlike; a
+hundred excuses ready for him: cut himself in shaving--wedding clothes
+not home in time--sprained his ankle--a bad headache.  Oh, you women,
+you women!  If ever there were a pack of fools--"
+
+"Father!"
+
+That one word only, but full of so much agony that he turned and caught
+her to his breast.
+
+"Brute!  Senseless brute!" he literally growled.  "Thinking of myself,
+of my own feelings, and not of you, my own."
+
+Then raging again, with his countenance purple, and the veins of his
+temples starting:
+
+"But you!  To insult you, my child, and after that other horrible
+affair.  How a man--who professed to worship you--could subject you to
+such an outrage--to such infamy!  I tell you it is maddening."
+
+"Father!" once more in a piteous tone.
+
+"No; you shall not plead for him, my darling.  You have behaved nobly.
+Like a true, self-respecting English lady.  No acting, no silly girlish
+fainting, but like my daughter.  You must go on, though.  This scoundrel
+must be shown that he cannot insult you with impunity."
+
+"Listen, father," she whispered after a desperate effort to restrain the
+hysterical burst of agony striving for exit.
+
+"I will not.  There is no excuse, Myra.  A telegram--a messenger--his
+friend and best man.  Nothing done.  The man is--no; he is no man.
+I'll--my lawyer shall--no; I'll go myself.  He shall see that--Silence!
+Be firm.  Don't move a muscle.  Take my arm when I hand you out, and not
+a word till we are in the drawing room."
+
+For the carriage had stopped, after a rapid course, at Sir Mark's house
+in Bourne Square, where they had to wait some minutes before, in
+response to several draggings at the bell, the door was opened by an
+elderly housemaid.
+
+"Why was not this door answered?  Where is Andrews?" thundered the
+admiral as the footman came in, looking startled, and closed the door
+behind which the housemaid stood, looking speechless at her master's
+unexpected return.
+
+"Shall the carriage wait, Sir Mark?" interposed the footman.
+
+"No!  Stop; don't open that door.  I said, why was this door not
+answered?"
+
+"I'm very sorry, Sir Mark," faltered the woman, who was trembling
+visibly.  "I was upstairs cleaning myself."
+
+"Bah!  Where is Andrews?  Where are the other servants?"
+
+"They all went to the wedding, Sir Mark."
+
+"Bah!"
+
+"Father--upstairs--I can bear no more," whispered Myra.
+
+Brought back to his child's suffering, the admiral hurried her up to the
+drawing room and let her sink back on a couch.  Then, turning to the
+bell, he was about to ring for help, but Myra rose.
+
+"No; don't ring," she said in a hoarse whisper.  "I'm better now."
+
+At that moment Miss Jerrold's carriage stopped at the door, and directly
+after Sir Mark's sister appeared with Edie, who, looking white and
+scared, ran at once to her cousin and clung to her, uttering violent
+sobs.
+
+"Silence, Edie!" thundered the admiral.  "Look at your cousin.  You must
+be a woman now.  Ah, here you are, then!" he continued fiercely as Percy
+Guest entered.
+
+"Yes; I came up for a moment before I go on there."
+
+"I'm glad you've come," cried the old man furiously, and leaping at
+someone upon whom he could vent his rage.  "Now, then, explain, you dog.
+What does that villain--that scoundrel--mean by insulting me--my child,
+like this?  Damn him!  I'll--"
+
+"Stop, Sir Mark!" cried Guest firmly.  "You don't know what you are
+saying."
+
+"What?"
+
+"And I will not stand here and have my dear old friend and schoolfellow
+insulted by such words."
+
+"Insulted!" cried Sir Mark, with a harsh laugh; "insulted?"
+
+"Yes, sir.  Malcolm Stratton is the soul of honour--a gentleman who
+would have laid down his life sooner than cause pain to the lady he
+loves with all his heart."
+
+"God bless you for that, Mr Guest!" cried Myra--catching the young
+man's hand as she spoke--in a broken voice, which she fought hard to
+render calm.
+
+"Bah!  Heroics!  Come away, Myra.  Of course he'll talk big for his
+friend.  But where is he?  Why has he insulted us all like this?"
+
+"Heaven only knows, sir," said Guest solemnly.  "Forgive me for speaking
+as I do before you, Mrs Barron, but at the cost of alarming you I must
+take Malcolm's part.  I saw him this morning at his chambers, ready
+almost to come on.  He placed Miss Perrin's telegram in my hands--about
+the bouquet--and begged me to see to it at once--to take the flowers to
+the hotel, and meet him at the church."
+
+"Yes--yes!" cried Myra eagerly, and her large, dark eyes were dilated
+strangely.
+
+"I did not pay any heed to it then, for I attributed it to anxiety and
+nervous excitement."
+
+"What, Mr Guest?" cried Myra piteously.
+
+"His appearance, Mrs Barron.  There was a peculiar wild look in his
+eyes, and his manner was strange and excited.  Some seizure must have
+been coming on."
+
+"Yes, yes; it is that," said Myra hoarsely, and she hurriedly tore off
+gloves, veil, and ornaments.
+
+"He was quite well last night," said the admiral scornfully.  "It was a
+trick to get rid of you.  I'll never believe but what it is all some
+deeply laid plan."
+
+"You do not know what you are saying, Sir Mark, or I would resent your
+words.  Mrs Barron, I will come back directly I obtain tidings of my
+poor friend.  You know him better than to think ill of him."
+
+"Yes, yes," cried Myra, speaking firmly now, but in a low, hurried
+murmur.  "But stop, Mr Guest; stop!"
+
+He turned sharply, for he was already at the door.
+
+"Wait for me--only a few minutes.  Edie--quick; help."
+
+Her cousin flew to her side.
+
+"Myra!" cried the admiral fiercely; "what are you going to do?"
+
+"Change my dress," she said with unnatural calmness.  "Go to him."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Where should I be but at his side?"
+
+"Impossible, girl!  You shall not degrade yourself like this!" cried the
+admiral; and Miss Jerrold caught her niece's hands.
+
+"There would be no degradation, Sir Mark," said Guest firmly; "but, Mrs
+Barron, you cannot go.  For years Malcolm has been like my brother.  He
+had no secrets from me, and I can tell you from my heart that there is
+but one reason for his absence--a sudden seizure.  Don't keep me,
+though, pray.  Stay here and wait my return.  Unless,"--he added
+quickly, with a deprecating glance at Sir Mark.
+
+"What!  I--go with you to hunt up the man and beg him to come?  Pshaw!"
+
+"Mark, it is your duty to go," said his sister sternly.  "I don't
+believe Mr Stratton would insult us like this."
+
+"Then for once in my life, madam, I will not do my duty!" cried the
+admiral furiously.  "It is not the only occasion upon which a man has
+gained the confidence of his friends.  It is not the first time I have
+been so cruelly deceived.  I can see it plainly.  Either, like a
+pusillanimous coward, he turned tail, or there is some disgraceful
+entanglement which holds him back!"
+
+"Father, it is not true!" cried Myra angrily.  "How dare you insult me
+like that?"
+
+"I--insult you?"
+
+"Yes, in the person of the man I love--my husband, but for this terrible
+mischance.  You do not mean it; you are mad with anger, but you will go
+with Mr Guest at once."
+
+"Never!" roared the admiral.
+
+"For my sake," she cried as she flung her arms about his neck and clung
+to him.  "I give up--I will not attempt to go there myself--you are
+quite right; but," she murmured now, so that her words were almost
+inaudible to all but him for whom they were intended, "I love him, dear,
+and he is in pain and suffering.  Go to him; I cannot bear it.  Bring
+him to me, or I shall die."
+
+The admiral kissed her hastily, and she clung to him for a moment or two
+longer as he drew a long, deep breath.
+
+"My own dearest father," she whispered, and she would have sunk at his
+feet, but he gently placed her in a lounge chair and turned to Guest.
+
+"Now, sir," he said, as if he were delivering an order from the
+quarter-deck, "I am at your service."
+
+Myra sprang from her chair and caught her aunt's arm, looking wildly in
+her eyes; and the meaning of the look was grasped.
+
+"Stop a moment, Mark," she said.  "My carriage is waiting.  You may want
+a woman there; I'll come with you."
+
+"You?" cried her brother.  "Absurd!"
+
+"Not at all," said the lady firmly.  "Mr Guest, take me down to my
+carriage; I shall come."
+
+Sir Mark frowned, but said no more; he merely glanced back as Myra now
+gave up and sank in her cousin's arms, while, as Miss Jerrold went down,
+her lips tightened, and she looked wonderfully like her brother, as she
+said to herself:
+
+"Thank goodness!  No man ever wanted to marry me."
+
+"Benchers' Inn," said Guest sharply as the footman closed the carriage
+door, and the trio sat in silence, each forming a mental picture of that
+which they were going to see.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIX.
+
+GUEST THINKS THE WORST.
+
+"Myra!  My own darling!" sobbed Edie.
+
+"Hush!  No, I must talk.  If I think in silence I shall go mad."
+
+"O Myra, Myra, are you never to be really married after all?"
+
+The bride made a hurried motion with her hands, then pressed them to her
+temples and thrust back her hair.
+
+"It makes me think of two years ago, dear," whispered Edie, "and all the
+horrors of that day."
+
+"Yes; is it fate?" said Myra hoarsely as she sat gazing at vacancy.
+
+"But I'll never believe that Malcolm Stratton could do wrong," whispered
+Edie, caressing and trying to soothe the sufferer as she clung to her
+side.  "It couldn't have been that this time, or else Percy would not be
+such friends."
+
+Myra bent forward with her eyes dilated as if she were gazing at
+something across the room.
+
+"Your poor hands are so cold and damp, and your forehead burning hot.  O
+Myra, Myra!  I did not think that two such terrible days could come in
+one poor girl's life."
+
+"Edie," said Myra in a husky whisper, "you saw Malcolm last night?"
+
+"Yes, dear, of course."
+
+"You did not see anything strange in his manner?"
+
+"No; only that he was half-mad with joy, and when he kissed me and said
+good-night--you remember?"
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"He said he was the happiest man alive."
+
+"Yes; I remember the exact words."
+
+"And he hoped that soon--"
+
+Edie stopped with a faint flush in her cheeks.
+
+Myra nodded quickly, but without ceasing to gaze straight away into
+vacancy.
+
+"But there was nothing strange--he was quite well--he said nothing else
+to you?"
+
+"No, dear; nothing that I can recall."
+
+"Are you sure he dropped no hint?  Nothing that could make you think he
+did not wish to marry me?"
+
+"No, no, no, dear.  He was longing to call you his very own.  He said
+so--to me.  But don't look like that, darling; you frighten me.  What
+are you thinking?"
+
+Myra was silent, and her aspect was so strange that Edie shook her
+excitedly.
+
+"Myra, darling--don't!" she cried.
+
+"I was thinking was it possible that, after all, he could repent," said
+Myra in low, measured tones.  "Whether, knowing all, he shrank from me
+at the moment when a few words would have made it irrevocable."
+
+"But why--why, darling?" cried Edie in alarm.
+
+"You cannot grasp it as he would.  I--married, and under such
+circumstances.  Love is blind, Edie, and he, poor fellow, may have been
+blinded in his love--his old love for me.  But what if the veil dropped
+away from his eyes at last, and he could not, he dared not face it--the
+sacrifice for him!  Edie, it was that, and I forgive him, for I loved
+him with all my heart."
+
+Startled by her cousin's looks and words, Edie now caught her hands and
+stood over her, speaking impetuously, almost angrily.
+
+"For shame!" she cried.  "Malcolm Stratton would never have acted like
+that.  O Myra; how could you think it of him?  So manly and open and
+frank in everything.  Oh, no, no, no; it could not be that."
+
+Myra turned to her quickly and clung to the hands which grasped hers, as
+if sinking in her despair, and clutching at one more chance for life.
+
+"Say--say that again," she whispered huskily.
+
+"I'll say it a hundred times, but there is no need.  Malcolm could not
+treat you like this of his own freewill.  He must be--he is ill, and
+that is all."
+
+"If I could only think so," said Myra as if to herself.  "If I could
+only believe it was that; but no, no," she wailed now, breaking down
+utterly, and snatching away her hands to cover her convulsed face; "the
+truth has been too strong at last, and he has gone."
+
+"Myra!" cried Edie.  "Hush!  You shall not give way like this.  How can
+you be so weak?  It is madness.  If he had treated you so shamefully,
+and turned away, you could not--you should not, take it to heart.  Where
+is your woman's pride?  To give way, believing such an infamy, is
+dreadful.  But I tell you it isn't--it can't be true.  There, there, be
+calm, my darling.  Be patient till they come back.  He has studied too
+hard lately--that's it.  I've noticed how pale and worried he looked at
+times, and with this excitement--you heard what Percy said--he has
+broken down.  There, that's the truth.  He's ill, and will soon be
+better, and all will come right, Myra! my darling coz.  Don't turn like
+that.  Oh--help! help! help!"
+
+She thrust her cousin back so that her head rested on the lounge, for a
+deathly look had come over the beautiful face, the eyes were
+half-closed, sending a chill of horror through the startled girl, who
+now tore frantically at the bell.
+
+"A doctor--they must fetch a doctor.  No; Percy must come back to tell
+her the simple truth, for I am right: Malcolm Stratton could not treat
+her as she thinks."
+
+And Percy Guest was on the way to put it to the test.
+
+For some little distance not a word was spoken in the carriage, each of
+its occupants being full of his or her own thoughts.
+
+Miss Jerrold was the first to break the silence.  For, as she sat there
+stern and uncompromising, thinking of the duty she had voluntarily
+undertaken in answer to the appeal in her niece's eyes, which plainly
+asked that she would stand between father and lover in any encounter
+which might take place, she noted that she was still holding the bouquet
+of exotics she had borne to the church.
+
+A look of annoyance and disgust crossed her face.
+
+"Here, Mr Guest," she said sharply; "let down the window and throw
+these stupid flowers away."
+
+Guest started, and hesitated about taking the bouquet, but it was
+pressed into his hand, and he was about to lower the window when the
+lady interposed.
+
+"No; it would be waste," she cried.  "Wait till we see some poor flower
+girl, and give it to her."
+
+The window on her right was let down sharply; then the flowers were
+snatched from her hand, and thrown out into the road by Sir Mark, who
+dragged the window up again with an angry frown.
+
+"As you please, Mark," said the lady quietly; "but the flowers might
+have been worth shillings to some poor soul."
+
+Silence reigned once more as the wheels spun round.  Oxford Street was
+reached and crossed, the coachman turning down into and across Grosvenor
+Square, and then in and out, avoiding the main streets, till the last,
+when the busy thoroughfare was reached near its eastern end, and the
+carriage was drawn up at the narrow, court-like entrance to the quiet,
+secluded inn.
+
+Heads were turned directly, among those whose attention was taken being
+a barrister in wig and gown, just on his way to the court, where Mr
+Justice Blank was giving his attention to a divorce case.
+
+Miss Jerrold saw the legal gentleman's smile, and guessed its meaning.
+
+"How stupid!" she muttered.  Then, as the footman came to the door:
+"Edward," she whispered hurriedly, "take that stupid satin bow from your
+breast.  Tell Johnson, too."
+
+The favour disappeared as the door was thrown open, and Sir Mark sprang
+out to go straight on toward the inn; then, recollecting himself, he
+turned to help his sister alight.
+
+But he was too late.  Percy Guest had performed that duty, and the lady
+took his arm and followed the admiral on into the calm silence of the
+old inn, past the porter's lodge, unnoticed by its occupant; then on
+across the square, under its shady plane trees, toward the fine old red
+brick mansion in the corner, with its iron lamp support and curious old
+link extinguishers on either side.
+
+The place was utterly deserted, and so still that the creaking of the
+admiral's new boots sounded loud and strange, while as they mounted the
+worn steps and entered the gloomy hall of the old place it struck chilly
+and damp, while the great stone staircase had a look that seemed
+forbidding and strange.
+
+"You have brought us here," said Sir Mark, stopping short at the foot of
+the stairs.  "Go first."
+
+He gave place to Guest, who led Miss Jerrold on and up the two flights
+to the broad landing, upon which the doors of Brettison's and Stratton's
+chambers opened.
+
+"One moment while I get my breath," panted Miss Jerrold; "I'm not so
+young as I used to be, Mr Guest."
+
+The admiral frowned, and stood scowling at the legend on the door, but
+it seemed cold and blank now, for there was no ray of sunshine to make
+the letters stand out clear.  All looked murky and grim, and the utter
+silence of the place was impressive as that of a tomb.
+
+As they stood there on the landing Guest hesitated for a moment or two,
+an undefinable feeling of dread having attacked him; there was a curious
+ringing in the ears, and his heart beat with a heavy throb.
+
+He was brought back to his duty by the cold, stern voice of the admiral.
+
+"Well, Mr Guest," he said again with a cold formality of tone, "you
+have brought us here,"--and he waved his hand toward the door.
+
+Guest sprang forward, knocked sharply, and stood back to wait, while
+Miss Jerrold drew a long, hissing breath, perfectly audible in the
+silence.
+
+There was no response, and the chirping of the inn sparrows came
+painfully loud through an open window somewhere above.
+
+"What a dismal place for a man to choose," muttered Miss Jerrold.  "Had
+you not better knock again?"
+
+Guest repeated the summons, and the admiral leaned forward, listening
+attentively.
+
+Still there was no reply; and, growing agitated now, Guest once more
+knocked loudly, with the repetition of the knocker, telling plainly of
+the trembling hand of him who raised it and let it fall.
+
+He drew back, to stand listening intently till Miss Jerrold spoke.
+
+"He must be out," said the lady quietly.  "Knock again, Mr Guest."
+
+The knocker once more raised the echoes of the weird-looking old
+staircase, and then died out above with a peculiar whisper, while
+Guest's heart sank within his breast as a dozen fancies now took
+possession of him, and horror prevailed.
+
+"We cannot stay here," said Miss Jerrold.  "Mr Guest, will you see me
+to my carriage again?  Mr Stratton must be out.  Gone to Bourne Square,
+and we have passed him on the way."
+
+"No!" thundered the admiral; "he is within there, hiding, like the cur
+he is, and afraid to face me!"
+
+Guest turned upon him angrily.
+
+"Come away, sister," growled the old man; "I am right."
+
+"No, sir; I swear you are wrong," cried Guest.
+
+"What?  Why, I saw the change in your face, man, when I heard a rustling
+noise in there.  You heard it too.  Deny it if you can."
+
+Guest was silent for a moment, and he stood with his eyes fixed upon the
+letter-box, as if expecting to see the cover of the slit move.
+
+"I am not going to deny it, sir; I did hear a sound," he said.  "If he
+is here he shall come out and face you, and tell the truth and reason of
+his absence.  It is illness, I am sure."
+
+As he spoke he once more seized the knocker and beat out a heavy
+_roulade_.
+
+But still there was no reply, and, taking his sister's hand, the admiral
+drew it through his arm.
+
+"Illness?" he said in a low growl.  "Yes, the shivering fit of a coward
+or a cur."
+
+"It is not true!" cried Guest excitedly as a thought flashed across his
+brain.  "I remember now: he had a heavy sum of money on the table when I
+was here, and--Great Heavens! is it that?"
+
+His manner was contagious, and his face conveyed his terrible thoughts
+to his companions.
+
+Miss Jerrold clung to her brother, and turned ghastly pale, while a look
+of horror contracted the old man's face.
+
+"You--you don't think--" he stammered.
+
+"I think the worst, or my poor friend would have been with us."
+
+"Man--for God's sake don't say that," gasped the admiral, as Guest
+stepped back to the full extent of the landing.
+
+"There is some mystery here."
+
+"Stop!  What are you going to do?" cried Sir Mark, catching at his arm.
+
+"Stand aside, sir; I am going to burst open that door."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN.
+
+TWO YEARS BEFORE.
+
+Blue sky, the bluest of blue water, margined with green and gold;
+gloriously rugged, steeply sloping pasture alps, dotted with
+picturesquely carved chalets, weatherworn by sun and rain to a rich,
+warm brown; higher up, the sehn hutte--the summer farmsteads of the
+peasants, round and about which graze gentle, soft-faced cows, each
+bearing its sweet-toned, musical bell.  Again, higher still, grey crag
+and lightning-blasted granite, bare, repellant, and strange; upward
+still, and in nook and cranny patches of a dingy white, like the
+sweepings up of a great hailstorm; another thousand feet up, and the
+aching eyes dazzled by peak, fold, cushion, and plain of white--the
+eternal ice; and, above all, the glorious sun beaming down, melting from
+the snows a million tiny rivers, which whisper and sing as they carve
+channels for their courses and meet and coalesce to flow amicably down,
+or quarrel and rage and rush together, till, with a mighty, echoing
+roar, they plunge headlong down the rift in some mighty glacier, flow on
+for miles, and reappear at the foot turbid, milky, and laden with stone,
+to hurry headlong to their purification in the lovely lake below.
+
+Two hundred feet above that lake, on a broad shelf, stood the Hotel des
+Cerfs, a magnified chalet, and in the wooden balcony, leaning upon the
+carved rail, and gazing at the wondrous view across lake and meadow, up
+and away to the snow-covered mountains till they blended with the fleecy
+clouds, stood Myra Jerrold and Edie Perrin--cousins by birth, sisters by
+habit--revelling in their first visit to the land of ice peak, valley,
+and lake.
+
+"I could stand here, I think, forever, and never tire of drinking in the
+beauties of such a scene, Edie.  It makes me so happy; and yet there are
+moments when the tears come into my eyes, and I feel sad."
+
+"Yes, I know, dear," replied Edie.  "That's when you want your lunch or
+dinner.  One feels faint."
+
+"How can you be so absurd?" cried Myra half reproachfully.
+
+"Then it's indigestion, from eating old goat."
+
+"Edie!"
+
+"It is, dear," said the merry, fair-haired girl, swinging her straw hat
+by one string over the balcony.  "I'm sure they save up the goats when
+they're too old to give any milk, to cook up for the visitors, and then
+they call it chamois.  I wish Aunt Jerrold had been here to have some of
+that dish last night.  I say, she wants to know when we are coming back
+to Bourne Square."
+
+"I don't know," said Myra thoughtfully.  "I am in no hurry.  It is very
+beautiful here."
+
+"Hum, yes.  You like it--as well as Saint Malo, the boating, and that
+quaint Breton woman where we lodged?"
+
+"Of course.  The flowers and the pine woods--it is one glorious garden.
+Papa liked the yachting, though."
+
+"Yes; but after three months out here I shall be glad to see smoky old
+London again."
+
+"Yes," said Myra meaningly, "I suppose so."
+
+Edie glanced at her sidewise in a quick, sharp way, but was silent for a
+few minutes.  When her cousin spoke:
+
+"Let's go and coax papa out for a good ramble till dinner--I mean
+supper--time."
+
+"No good; he would not come.  Piquet, coffee, and cigars.  Do you like
+this Mr Barron, Myra?"
+
+"_Oh, yes, well enough_.  He is very clever and well informed.  He can
+talk pleasantly about anything, especially about yachting and the sea,
+and of course papa likes that."
+
+"Talks too much, I think.  I'd rather sit and listen to quiet,
+thoughtful Mr Stratton."
+
+"I suppose so," said Myra rather dryly; and then hastened to add, "and
+Mr Guest."
+
+"Yes, and to Mr Guest," said her cousin, again looking at her sharply,
+and as if the words had stung.
+
+Myra met her glance, and hurriedly changed the conversation.
+
+"Look, what a change there is on the lake, dear," she said.  "How
+glowing the water is."
+
+"Yes, and yet some people prefer playing cards to studying nature."
+
+"Papa is no longer young.  He has enjoyed scenery all over the world and
+likes rest now, and a game of cards."
+
+"I was not talking about uncle, dear."
+
+"About Mr Barron, then?  Dear me, what a sagacious nod.  Edie dear,
+don't think out romances.  Let's enjoy the matter of fact and real.
+Ready for a walk?"
+
+Edie held up her hat by one string, and put it on ready to descend with
+her cousin to a lower balcony, on another frontage of the house, where,
+seated at a table, with coffee, cigars, and a pack of cards, was the
+admiral, and, facing him, a rather heavily built man, with some
+pretensions to being handsome.  He was plainly and well dressed, of the
+easy manners of one accustomed to all kinds of society, and apparently
+rather proud of his white, carefully tended hands.
+
+As he turned a little more to the light in bending to remove the ash
+from his cigar, streaks of grey showed in his closely cut beard and
+crisp, dark hair.  In addition there was a suggestion of wrinkling about
+the corners and beneath his eyes, the work more of an arduous life than
+age.
+
+As he rose to replace the cigar between his lips he smiled carelessly.
+
+"Luck's with you to-day, admiral," he said; and he was in the act of
+shuffling his cards when he caught sight of his companion's daughter and
+niece.
+
+In an instant the cards were thrown down, and the cigar jerked out of
+the window.
+
+"What's the matter?" said the admiral.  "Ah, girls!"
+
+"We're come to ask you to go for a walk with us, papa, but if--"
+
+Myra's eyes rested for a moment on the admiral's companion, and then
+dropped to the cards.
+
+"Our game?" said the younger man quickly.  "Oh, that's nothing; we can
+play any time, Miss Jerrold, and the weather is lovely now.  Why not
+accompany the ladies, sir?"
+
+"No, thanks; I get more walking than I care for.  Don't go far, girls;
+the mountains are full of goblins and dragons, which devour pretty
+maidens.  Be back soon, and I'll go and sit down with you by the lake.
+Now, Barron, your deal."
+
+The gentleman addressed looked at the ladies, and shrugged his shoulders
+slightly as much as to say.  "You see I have no alternative."
+
+"Then you will not come, papa?" said Myra as she rested her hands on his
+shoulders.
+
+"No, my dear; too tired.  Don't spoil my luck by stopping; run along."
+
+"Uncle talks to us as if we were two little tots of things, Myry," said
+Edie as they crossed the hotel garden.
+
+"Well, why should we not always be to him like the girls he loves and
+pets?"
+
+James Barron thought the same as Edie as he dealt the cards, and he
+added to himself: "She resents it; I could see her brow wrinkle.  That
+settles it; I'll chance the throw."
+
+"Ha!  Now we can be at peace again," cried the admiral as he settled
+himself to his hand, which he played out, and ended by winning the game.
+
+James Barron took up the pack again nervously, threw it down, thrust his
+hand into his pocket, and then passed a couple of louis across the
+table.
+
+"Cut," said the admiral.
+
+His _vis-a-vis_ shook his head, took out a case, and carefully selected
+a cigar, which he proceeded to cut and light.
+
+"Oh, nonsense, man!  The luck will change; my turn to-day, your's
+to-morrow."
+
+"Pooh!  It isn't that, Sir Mark," said Barron, throwing himself back in
+his chair.  "I can afford to lose a few louis.  I'm a bit hipped--out of
+sorts."
+
+"Hotel living."
+
+"No, sir; brain.  There, I'll speak plainly, even at the risk of your
+laughing at me, for we have been friends now at several places during
+the last three months--since I met you at Saint Malo."
+
+"Pleasant acquaintances, sir," said the admiral, metaphorically drawing
+himself beneath the shell of his English reserve.  "Mutual tastes--
+yachting.  Acquaintances, sir."
+
+"I beg your pardon; acquaintances, then."
+
+There was a pause, during which the admiral also lit a fresh cigar, and
+his brows twitched a little.
+
+"Sir Mark, I'm a plain man, and I think by this time you pretty well
+know my history.  I ought to be over in Trinidad superintending the
+cocoa estate my poor father left me, but I detest the West Indies, and I
+love European life.  It is my misfortune to be too well off.  Not rich,
+but I have a comfortable, modest income.  Naturally idle, I suppose."
+
+"Nonsense, sir!" said the admiral gruffly.  "One of the most active men
+I ever met."
+
+"Thank you.  Well, idle, according to the accepted ideas of some of the
+Americans we meet abroad.  Dollars--making dollars--their whole
+conversation chinks of the confounded coin, and their ladies' dresses
+rustle with greenbacks.  I hate money-making, but I like money for my
+slave, which bears me into good society and among the beauties of
+nature.  Yes, I am an idler--full, perhaps, of dilettantism."
+
+"Rather a long preface, Mr Barron," said Sir Mark gruffly.  "Make
+headway, please.  What is it you wish to say?"
+
+"I think you know, sir," said the other warmly.  "I lived to
+thirty-seven, hardly giving a thought to the other sex, save as
+agreeable companions.  I met you and your niece and daughter over yonder
+at Macugnaga, and the whole world was changed."
+
+"Humph!"
+
+"I am not a boy, sir.  I speak to you as a man of the world, and I tell
+you plainly that I love her as a strong man only can love."
+
+"Edith?"
+
+"Don't trifle with me, sir!" cried Barron, bringing his hand down
+heavily upon the table, and gazing almost fiercely in the old sailor's
+eyes.
+
+"Humph! my daughter, then.  And you have told her all this?"
+
+"Sir Mark Jerrold!  Have I ever given you cause to think I was other
+than a gentleman?"
+
+"No, no," said the admiral hastily.  "I beg your pardon.  But this is
+all very sudden; we are such new acquaintances."
+
+"You might call it friends," said Barron reproachfully.
+
+"No; acquaintances--yet," said the old sailor sturdily.
+
+"Then you do give me some hope?" cried Barron excitedly.
+
+"No, I did not, sir.  I'm out of soundings here.  No; hang it, I meant
+to say, sir, in shoal water.  Hang it, man, I don't want the child to
+think about such things for years."
+
+"Sir Mark, your daughter must be twenty."
+
+"Eh?  Twenty?  Humph!  Well, I suppose she is."
+
+"There is no hurry, sir.  Let matters go on as they are, only let it be
+an understood thing that you do, say in a latent may, encourage my
+suit."
+
+"No, sir; I'll bind myself to nothing; I--Oh, hang it all, man, why did
+you spoil a pleasant trip like this?"
+
+"Spoil it, Sir Mark?  Have some compassion for the natural feelings of a
+man thrown into the society of so sweet a girl as--"
+
+"That will do, sir; that will do," cried the admiral, frowning.  "There;
+I'm not going to quarrel with you, Mr Barron.  I was young once myself.
+I was a good sailor, I'm told, but this sort of thing is out of my
+latitude.  If my poor wife had lived--Phew! it's growing hot, isn't it?
+Thunderstorm, I suppose."
+
+"I'm very sorry, Sir Mark."
+
+"So am I, sir," said the admiral.  "There's an end to our trip."
+
+"Sir Mark!  Don't talk like that.  I'll leave the hotel to-morrow.  I
+would not on any consideration--"
+
+"That will do, Mr Barron; that will do.  I'm a man of few words, and
+what I say I mean.  This can go no further here."
+
+"You don't mean that you will go away?"
+
+"Back to England, sir, and home as fast as I can."
+
+"But my proposal, sir?"
+
+"I have a sister there, sir, my counsellor in all matters concerning my
+two girls."
+
+"But you will give me leave to call--in England?"
+
+"Tchah, man!  You'll forget it all in a month."
+
+Barron smiled.
+
+"You will give me leave to call at your house?"
+
+"As a gentleman, sir, I can hardly refuse that."
+
+Barron smiled and bowed.
+
+"I see, sir.  I have been too hasty, Admiral Jerrold.  I ask you as a
+favour, if you do carry out your hasty decision, to make some inquiries
+respecting Mr Barron of Trinidad."
+
+"I shall, sir, of course," said the admiral.  "You'll excuse me now; I'm
+going to join my niece and daughter."
+
+He left the veranda gallery, puffing heavily at his cigar, while Barron
+stood watching him.
+
+"Hit or miss?" he muttered.  "Hit, I think, and game worth bringing
+down.  She's cold.  Well, naturally, I don't think I managed it so
+badly, after all."
+
+"Oh, here's uncle," said Edie half an hour later as she saw the big,
+burly figure of the old sailor approaching.  "Oh, you dear, good old
+uncle.  Come and sit down here, and you can see the colour changing on
+the ice peaks."
+
+"No, no, no.  Come back, girls, and pack up.  We're off by the first
+train to-morrow."
+
+"Where to now, papa?"
+
+"Bourne Square, W., my dear, as soon as we can get there.  Come along!"
+
+"Myry--Mr Barron passed as we came into the hotel, and only raised his
+hat."
+
+"Have papa and he had some misunderstanding over the cards?"
+
+"Perhaps: over the hearts."
+
+"Edie!" cried Myra, colouring.  "What do you mean?"
+
+"He has been proposing for you, and uncle said no; and now he is going
+to carry us off home to be safe."
+
+"Proposed for me," said Myra thoughtfully, and in the most unruffled
+way, as her eyes assumed a dreamy, wondering look.
+
+"Of course, and you love him dearly, don't you?"
+
+"I?  Oh, no," said Myra calmly.
+
+"What a strange girl she is!" thought Edith that night as she went to
+bed.
+
+And Myra said to herself again calmly and thoughtfully: "Proposed for
+me.  Perhaps Edie is right.  But how strange!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT.
+
+STRATTON'S DECISION.
+
+"Yes, sir, it's done," said Mrs Brade, looking sadly in at the doorway
+on the left side of the fire; "and I hope it will turn out all right,
+but my experience of pipes is that they always busties in the winter,
+and drowns all your neighbours out on the next floor."
+
+"Well, I hope this will be an exception," said Stratton, laughing.
+
+"I hope so, too, sir, but it's no laughing matter, and for my part--
+though, of course, gentlemen have a right to do as they like--I think
+there is nothing like a big, flat, zinc bath painted oak out, and white
+in, set on a piece of oilcloth in a gentleman's bedroom.  Then you've
+your big sponge, and a can of water.  No trouble about them getting out
+of order."
+
+"But the trouble, Mrs Brade," said Stratton.  "No filling; no
+anything."
+
+"No, sir, of course not; but you're always at the mercy of the plumbers;
+and if these men don't always leave their work so that it'll make
+another job before long, I'm not a Christian woman."
+
+"Oh, you object to it because it's new-fashioned," said Stratton
+merrily.
+
+"Which, begging your pardon, I don't, sir.  What I do object to is your
+taking up a beautiful closet to make into a bath room; and out of your
+sitting room, and none too much cupboard room before.  If it had been a
+cupboard in your bedroom I shouldn't have said a word."
+
+"But there was no cupboard there, Mrs Brade, and that closet fitted
+exactly, so say no more about it."
+
+"Certainly not, sir, if you don't wish it; and only too glad am I to
+have got rid of the workmen; though as I lay in bed last night I said to
+my husband, `Mark my word, John, if Mr Brettison don't go having a bath
+made in his room, for there's the fellow-closet as matches Mr
+Stratton's exactly.'"
+
+"To be sure, I never thought of that," said Stratton merrily.  "I'll
+give him a hint."
+
+"Mr Stratton, sir, if you've any respect for me and my rheumatism,
+don't.  The place smells horrid as it is of paint, and French polish,
+and plumbers, without counting the mess they made, and if you'll be
+guided by me you'll buy a sixpenny box of pastilles and let me burn one
+every day till the smell of workmen's gone."
+
+"Oh, I don't mind the smell, Mrs Brade.  By George, yes, Mr Brettison
+ought to have a bath put in his."
+
+"Mr Stratton, sir, don't, please.  He's sure to if you say a word; and
+if the workmen come again we shall be having the whole place tumbling
+about our ears."
+
+"I hope not.  Oh, the old place is strong enough."
+
+"I don't know, sir," said the porter's wife, shaking her head; "it's a
+very old and tumble-down sort of place, and I've heard noises, and
+crackings, and rappings, sometimes, as have made my flesh creep.  They
+do say the place is haunted."
+
+"With rats?"
+
+"Worse, sir.  Oh, I'm told there were strange goings on here in the old
+times, when a Lord Morran lived here.  I've heard that your cupboard--"
+
+"Bath room."
+
+"Well, sir, bath room, was once a passage into Mr Brettison's chambers,
+and his closet was a passage into yours, and they used to have dinners,
+and feasts, and dancing, and masked balls, at which they used to play
+dominoes.  The gambling and goings on was shameful.  But please, sir,
+don't say a word to Mr Brettison.  I've trouble enough with him now.
+There never was such a gentleman for objecting to being dusted, and the
+way those big books of his that he presses his bits of chickweed and
+groundsel in do hold the dust is awful.  If you wished to do him some
+kindness you'd get him away for a bit, so that I could turn his rooms
+inside out.  Postman, sir."
+
+Mrs Brade hurried to the outer door and fetched a letter just dropped
+into the box, and upon this being eagerly taken, and opened, she saw
+that there was no further chance of being allowed to gossip, and saying
+"Good-morning, sir," she went out, and down to the porter's lodge.
+
+Malcolm Stratton's hands trembled as he turned the letter over and
+hesitated to open it.
+
+"What a manly hand the old lady writes, and how fond she is of sporting
+their arms," he continued, as he held up the great blot of red wax
+carefully sealed over the adhesive flap of the envelope.
+
+Then tearing it open he read:
+
+  Westbourne Terrace, Thursday.
+
+  My Dear Mr Stratton:
+
+  Thank you for your note and its news.  Accept my congratulations.  You
+  certainly deserved to gain the post; the work will be most congenial,
+  and it will give you an opportunity for carrying on your studies,
+  besides placing you in the independent position for which you have
+  worked so long and hard.  I wish my dear old friend and schoolfellow,
+  your mother, had lived to see her boy's success.  You must go on now
+  with renewed confidence, and double that success.
+
+  Very sincerely yours, Rebecca Jerrold.
+
+  Malcolm Stratton, Esquire.
+
+  P.S.--I shall be at home to-morrow evening.  Come and see me, and
+  bring your friend.  Nobody will be here but the girls, who are going
+  to give me a little music, as my brother dines out.
+
+Stratton's face flushed warmly, and he stood staring before him at the
+window.
+
+"I could not go there now," he muttered, "without seeing the old man
+first.  It would not be honourable.  I meant to wait, but--I must speak
+at once."
+
+He re-read the letter, and his eyes sparkled with pleasure.
+
+"And I asked her point blank, and she does not even refer to it.  Then
+it was her doing.  God bless her!  She has been using her interest and
+working for me.  It's her work, and she must approve of it."
+
+He hurriedly thrust the letter into his breast as a double rap came at
+his door, and, upon opening it, Percy Guest came in.
+
+"Got your wire, old chap, and came on at once.  Something the matter?"
+
+"Yes; something serious."
+
+"My dear old man, I'm so sorry.  Want help--money?  Don't keep me in
+suspense."
+
+"No, old fellow," cried Stratton proudly; "the news came this morning,
+and I telegraphed to you directly."
+
+"Not--"
+
+"Yes, I am the successor of poor old Professor Raymond--the new curator
+of the Headley Museum."
+
+"Hurray!" cried Guest, snatching up a great bird-skin by the beak and
+waving it round his head till he wrung its neck right off.  "Oh, bother!
+Three cheers for Professor Stratton!  Bravo!  Why, you'll be an awful
+scientific swell.  Malcolm, old chap, I am glad," he continued, flinging
+the choice and valuable specimen up on to a bookcase, and grasping his
+friend's hand.  "You shall dine with me to-night, and we'll pour out
+champagne libations to the gods."
+
+"Sit down and be quiet," said Stratton gravely.  "No, old fellow, I
+can't dine with you to-night; I've something particular to do."
+
+"Come and have a big lunch, then; we must go mad somehow.  Why, its
+glorious, old man!  They've had big, scientific, bald-headed old buffers
+there before--regular old dry-as-dusts.  Come on; you can't and I can't
+work to-day."
+
+"Sit down, I tell you, and be serious.  I want to talk to you."
+
+"All right--I may smoke?"
+
+"Smoke?  Yes."
+
+"But are you sure you can't come?" said Guest, taking out a pipe.
+
+"Quite.  I have made up my mind to go to Bourne Square to-night."
+
+"To the admiral's?" cried Guest, starting, and changing colour a little.
+
+"Yes; there is an invitation just come for me to go to Miss Jerrold's
+to-morrow night and take you."
+
+"Indeed!" said Guest eagerly.
+
+"She says in a postscript that the ladies will be there."
+
+"Well?" said Guest uneasily, and beginning to smoke very hard.
+
+"Don't you understand?"
+
+"Eh?  No."
+
+"Then I must speak plainly, old fellow.  For a year before they went out
+to Switzerland we were there a great deal, and met them after."
+
+Guest nodded and his pipe did not seem to draw.
+
+"We have met them often during these three months that they have been
+back."
+
+Guest laughed and struck a match.  His pipe was out.
+
+"Well, have you not seen anything?"
+
+"Yes," said Guest huskily.
+
+"I felt that you must have seen it, old fellow.  I have no secrets from
+you.  I have loved her from the first time I saw her at Miss Jerrold's,
+and it has gone on growing till at times I have been almost in despair.
+For how could I speak, poor and hard up as I was--just a student,
+earning two or three hundred a year?"
+
+"Always seemed attentive enough," said Guest, looking away as his friend
+paced the room with growing excitement.
+
+"Perhaps; but I have schooled myself to hide it all, and to act as a
+gentleman should toward Sir Mark.  It would have been dishonourable to
+act otherwise than as an ordinary friend of the family."
+
+"I suppose so," said Guest dismally.  "And now?"
+
+"My position is changed.  Poverty does not bar the way, and, feeling
+this, I cannot trust myself.  I cannot go and meet her to-morrow evening
+at her aunt's without seeing the admiral first, and speaking out to him
+like a man."
+
+"And--and--you really--care for her so much, old fellow?" said Guest
+hoarsely, and still in trouble with his pipe, which refused to draw.
+
+"Care for her--so much!" exclaimed Stratton, flushing.
+
+"And she?"
+
+"How can I tell?  I can only hope.  I think she--no, it sounds
+presumptuous, but I must tempt my fate."
+
+"And if the lady--"
+
+"Refuses me--the admiral does not approve?"
+
+"Yes.  What then?"
+
+"I must try and bear it like a man."
+
+There was a few minutes' silence, though it only seemed a moment, when
+Guest spoke again in a curiously changed tone of voice.
+
+"But about that Mr Barron, Stratton?"
+
+"Yes; what about him?"
+
+"He is a good deal at Sir Mark's, isn't he?"
+
+"Yes; a friend the old gentleman picked up abroad--yachting, I think."
+
+"You don't think that he has any intentions?"
+
+"That Mr Barron?  No; such an idea never crossed my mind.  Absurd!  He
+is quite a middle-aged man, I hear; I've not seen him.  He is no
+favourite either of old Miss Jerrold.  But what's the matter?  Going?"
+
+"Eh?  Yes, I'm going now.  You won't come out, old fellow, and I thought
+we'd put off the congratulatory dinner till another day."
+
+"Yes, we will.  I'm awfully sorry, Percy; don't take it ill of me."
+
+"No, no; of course not."
+
+"And--and I'll communicate with you about to-morrow night.  Though, if I
+don't go, that is no reason why you should not."
+
+"No, of course--that is--," faltered Guest, looking at his friend
+strangely.  "Good-bye, old fellow.  You are going to the admiral's
+to-night?"
+
+"No, I'll go this afternoon.  He may be off out to dinner.  Wish me
+luck, old fellow."
+
+"Yes," said Guest slowly, "I wish you luck.  I was afraid so," he said
+slowly, as he descended the stairs, looking careworn and wretched.  "I
+ought to have known better.  They were always together, and she likes
+him.  Oh!  I could break his neck.  No, I couldn't.  I'm only a fool, I
+suppose, for liking him.  I've always been as if I was her dog.  One's
+own and only friend to come between.  Oh, what a crooked world it is!
+Round?  Bosh!  It's no shape at all, or it would have been evenly
+balanced and fair.  Good-bye, little Edie; you'll jump at him, of
+course.  He's worth half a dozen of such poor, weak-minded beggars as I
+am; but I loved you very dearly indeed, indeed.  I shan't go and make a
+hole in the water, little one, all the same.  I wonder, though, whether
+an enterprising young barrister would have any chance in Fiji or the
+Caroline Isles?  I'll ask someone who knows."
+
+Percy Guest went back to his chambers in Grey's Inn, and about half-past
+three a cab set down Malcolm Stratton at the admiral's door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINE.
+
+"TOO LATE!"
+
+"Sir Mark at home, Andrews?" said Stratton as the door was opened by the
+butler.
+
+"Yes, sir.  Mr Barron's with him, but of course he'll see you.  Will
+you step up in the drawing room?  Only the young ladies there."
+
+"No, thanks," said Stratton hurriedly.  "Ask Sir Mark if he will see me
+or make some appointment.  Where is he?"
+
+"In the library, sir."
+
+"Mr Barron with him," thought Stratton as the butler showed him into
+the dining room and closed the door.  "Wonder what he is like.  Oh!
+impossible.  How easily a man can be jealous."
+
+As he stood looking up at the portrait of a lady--Myra's mother--he
+fancied he heard steps in the hall, and directly after the butler
+entered.
+
+"Sir Mark will see you, sir," said the butler.
+
+"But Mr Barron is there?"
+
+"No, sir, just gone up to join the ladies."
+
+Stratton winced, and the next moment was shown into the library.
+
+"Ah, Malcolm Stratton," cried the admiral bluntly.  "Come in, my dear
+boy.  How are you?  Glad you've called.  My friend Mr Barron was here.
+I wanted to introduce you two.  Travelled much, but he's chary of making
+new friends.  You'll like him, though, I'm sure.  Wonderful fellow at
+the management of a yacht, and a magnificent swimmer.  Why, I believe
+that man, sir, could swim for miles."
+
+"Indeed, Sir Mark."
+
+"Oh, yes; but sit down, Stratton; you are quite a stranger.  Want to see
+me on business?"
+
+"Yes; I--"
+
+But before he could get any further the admiral, who seemed in high
+spirits, interrupted him.
+
+"Pity you were not ten minutes sooner.  Barron was telling me a most
+amusing story of slave life in Trinidad in the old days.  Wonderful fund
+of anecdote.  But you said business or an appointment, my dear boy.  Bad
+man to come to unless it's about the sea.  What is it?"
+
+Stratton made no answer for a few moments.  The difficulty was how to
+begin.  It was not that he was strange with the admiral, for, consequent
+upon the friendship formerly existing between Miss Jerrold and his
+mother, Sir Mark's house had been open to him times enough.  Seeing his
+hesitation the old sailor smiled encouragement.
+
+"Come, my lad," he said, "out with it.  Is something wrong?  Want help?"
+
+"Yes, sir, yours," said Stratton, making his plunge, and now speaking
+quickly.  "The fact is, Sir Mark, I have had news this morning--glorious
+news for me."
+
+"Glad of it, my dear boy.  But you looked just now as if you were going
+to court-martial for running your ship aground."
+
+"I suppose it was natural, sir.  Yesterday I was a poor struggling man,
+to-day I have had the letter announcing my appointment to the Headley
+Museum, and it is not only the stipend--a liberal one--but the position
+that is so valuable for one who is fighting to make his way in the
+scientific ranks."
+
+The admiral stretched out his hand, and shook Stratton's warmly.
+
+"Glad of it, my dear boy.  My congratulations on your promotion.  I
+shall see you an admiral among the scientific bigwigs yet.  To be sure;
+of course.  I have been so taken up with other things--being abroad--and
+so much worried and occupied since I came back, that I had forgotten all
+about it.  But my sister told me she was moving heaven and earth, and
+going down on her knees to all kinds of great guns to beg them to salute
+you."
+
+"Then it has been her doing," cried Stratton excitedly.
+
+"Oh, yes; I think she has done something in it.  Do the girls know?"
+
+"No, sir; not yet," said Stratton hastily.  "I felt that it was my duty
+to come to you first."
+
+"Eh?  Very good of you, I'm sure.  I'll send for them.  They'll be
+delighted."
+
+He rose to ring, but Stratton interposed.
+
+"Not yet, sir, please," he cried; "I have something else to say."
+
+"Wants to borrow a hundred for his outfit," thought the admiral.  "Well,
+I like the fellow; he shall have it.  Now, my lad," he said aloud as he
+resumed his seat.  "What is it?"
+
+Stratton hesitated for a few moments, and then hurriedly:
+
+"I have met Miss Myra Jerrold and Miss Perrin frequently at their
+aunt's, Sir Mark, and to a great extent you have made me free of your
+house.  You will grant, I hope, that feelings such as have grown up in
+me were quite natural.  It was impossible for me to be in their society
+without forming an attachment, but I give you my word, sir, as a man,
+that never by word or look have I trespassed upon the kindness you have
+accorded me; and had I remained poor, as I believed myself yesterday, I
+should never have uttered a word."
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated the admiral, gazing at him sternly.
+
+"But now that I do know my position, my first step is to come to you and
+explain."
+
+"And the young lady?  You have not spoken to her on the subject?"
+
+"Never, Sir Mark, I swear."
+
+"A gentleman's word is enough, sir.  Well, I will not profess ignorance.
+My sister did once drop me a kind of hint about my duties, and I have
+noticed a little thing now and then."
+
+"You have noticed, sir?" cried Stratton, looking startled.
+
+"Oh, yes," said the admiral, smiling.  "I'm not an observant man over
+such matters; in fact, I woke up only three months ago to find how blind
+I could be; but in your case I did have a few suspicions; for you young
+men are very transparent."
+
+"Really, Sir Mark, I assure you," faltered Stratton, "I have been most
+guarded."
+
+"Of course you have, my lad.  Well, I am a poor pilot in love matters,
+but I don't see here why we should not go straight ahead.  You are both
+young and suitable for each other.  Rebecca swears by you, and I confess
+that I rather like you when you are not so confoundedly learned."
+
+"Sir Mark!" cried Stratton, his voice husky with emotion, "in my wildest
+moments I never thought--"
+
+"That I should be such an easy-going fellow, eh?  But we are running too
+fast, boy.  There is the young lady to think about."
+
+"Of course--of course, sir."
+
+"Not the custom to consult the ship about her captain, but we will
+here," cried Sir Mark with a laugh; "they generally appoint the captain
+right off.  We'll have her down, bless her.  A good girl, Stratton, and
+I congratulate you."
+
+"But one moment, sir," faltered the young man; "is it kind--so
+suddenly--give me leave to speak to her first."
+
+"No," said the old sailor abruptly; "she shall come down, and it shall
+be _yes_ or _no_ right off."
+
+He rang the bell sharply, and then crossed back to Stratton, and shook
+his hand again.
+
+"You've behaved very well indeed, my lad," he said; "and I like you for
+it.  I never knew your father, but he must have been a gentleman.  Your
+mother, Becky's friend, was as sweet a lady as I ever met."
+
+The butler entered.
+
+"Mr Barron gone?"
+
+"No, Sir Mark."
+
+"Don't matter.  Go and ask Miss Perrin to step down here."
+
+The butler bowed, and left the room.
+
+Stratton started from his seat with his face ghastly.
+
+"Hullo, my lad! what's the matter?  Time for action, and afraid to meet
+that saucy little thing.  I say, you scientific fellows make poor
+lovers.  Hold up, man, or she'll laugh at you."
+
+"Sir Mark!" gasped Stratton.  "Ring again--a horrible mistake on your
+part."
+
+"What the deuce do you mean, sir?  You come and propose for my niece's
+hand--"
+
+"No; no, Sir Mark," cried the young man wildly.
+
+"What!  Why I've seen you attentive to her a score of times.  I say
+again, what the deuce do you mean?  Why--why--you were not talking about
+my own child?"
+
+"My words all related to Miss Jerrold, Sir Mark," said Stratton, now
+speaking in a voice full of despair.  "I never imagined that you could
+possibly misunderstand me."
+
+"But, confound you, I did, sir.  What the devil do you mean by
+blundering out such a lame tale as that?"
+
+"Want me, uncle dear?" said Edie, entering the room.
+
+"No, no, my dear.  Run along upstairs.  You're not wanted.  I have
+business with Mr Stratton here."
+
+Edie darted a frightened glance from the choleric, flushed countenance
+of her uncle to Stratton's, which was almost white.
+
+"Oh, poor Mr Stratton," she thought as she drew back.  "Then he did not
+know before."
+
+The door closed, and Sir Mark turned upon Stratton fiercely.
+
+"Why, confound you, sir!" he began; but the despairing face before him
+was disarming.  "No, no," he cried, calming down; "no use to get in a
+passion about it.  Poor lad! poor lad!" he muttered.  Then aloud: "You
+were speaking, then, of Myra--my daughter--all the time?"
+
+"Yes."  Only that word in a despondent tone, for he could read rejection
+in every line of the old sailor's face.
+
+"But I always thought--oh, what a confounded angle.  This is not men's
+work.  Why isn't Rebecca here?  Mr Stratton, this is all a horrible
+blunder.  Surely Myra--my daughter--never encouraged you to hope?"
+
+"Never, sir; but I did hope and believe.  Let me see her, Sir Mark.  I
+thought I was explicit, but we have been playing at cross purposes.
+Yes; ask Miss Jerrold to see me here--in your presence.  Surely it is
+not too late to remedy such a terrible mistake."
+
+"But it is too late, Mr Stratton; and really I don't think I could ever
+have agreed to such an engagement, even if my child had been willing."
+
+"Sir Mark!" pleaded Stratton.
+
+"For Heaven's sake, let's bring it to an end, sir.  I never imagined
+such a thing.  Why, man, then all the time you were making friends with
+one cousin, so as to get her on your side."
+
+"I don't know--was I?" said Stratton dejectedly.
+
+"Of course, sir.  Acting the timid lover with the old result!" cried Sir
+Mark angrily.
+
+Stratton gazed excitedly in his face; there was so much meaning in his
+words.
+
+"There," continued the admiral; "but it must come, sir, and you must
+bear it like a man.  My child, Myra, has accepted my friend Mr Barron,
+and the marriage is to take place almost at once."
+
+Stratton stood for a few moments gazing in Sir Mark's face, as if he
+failed to grasp the full tenor of his words.  Then, turning slowly, and
+without a word, he left the room, walked back to his quaint, panelled
+chambers, and hid his despair from the eyes of man.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TEN.
+
+AN UNOPENED BUD.
+
+Myra Jerrold stood looking very calm and statuesque, with James Barron
+holding her hand.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I am going now, but only for a few hours.  I cannot
+live away from you.  Only a fortnight now, Myra, and then good-bye to
+cold England.  I take you to a land of beauty, of sunny skies, and joy
+and love."
+
+"Can any land be as beautiful as that which holds one's home?" she said.
+
+"No," replied Barron quickly, "but that will be your home."
+
+"Trinidad," said Myra thoughtfully; "so many thousand miles away."
+
+"Bah! what are a few thousand miles now?  A journey in a floating hotel
+to a place where you can telegraph to your father's door--instantaneous
+messages, and receive back the replies."
+
+"But still so far," said Myra dreamily.
+
+"Try and drive away such thoughts, dearest," whispered Barron.  "I shall
+be there.  And besides, Sir Mark will run over and see us; and Edith,
+too, with her husband."
+
+Myra's manner changed.  The dreaminess passed away and she looked
+quickly in her betrothed's eyes.
+
+"Yes, I always thought so," he said merrily.  "'Tis love that makes the
+world go round.  That Mr Stratton, your old friend, is below.  Don't
+you understand?"
+
+"No," said Myra quietly, "not quite."
+
+"I think you do, dearest," he said, trying to pass his arm round her,
+but she shrank gently away.
+
+"Very well," he said, kissing her hand, "I can wait.  You will not
+always be so cold.  Mr Stratton came to see your father on business,
+looking the lover from head to foot.  I was sent up to you, and soon
+after our dear little Edie is summoned to the library.  Come, don't look
+so innocent, darling.  You do understand."
+
+"That Mr Stratton has come to propose for Edie's hand?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+Myra's brow contracted a little, and there was a puzzled look in her
+eyes as she said gently:
+
+"Yes, he has been very attentive to her often.  Well, I like Mr
+Stratton very much, Mr Barron."
+
+"James," he said reproachfully.
+
+"James," she said, as if repeating a lesson, in a dreamy tone, and her
+eyes were directed toward the door.
+
+"I like him, too, now that I am quite safe.  There was a time, dear,
+when I first came here, and had my doubts.  I fancied a rival in Mr
+Stratton."
+
+"A rival?" she said, starting and colouring.  "Yes; but so I did in any
+man who approached you, dearest.  But there never was anything--the
+slightest flirtation?"
+
+"No, never," she said quickly.
+
+"Of course not; and I am so happy, Myra.  You, so young and beautiful,
+to awaken first to love at my words.  But are you not cruel and cold to
+me still?  Our marriage so soon, and you treat me only kindly, as if I
+were a friend, instead of as the man so soon to be your husband."
+
+Myra withdrew her hand, for the door opened, and Edith entered the room,
+looking troubled and disturbed.
+
+"Good-bye, then, once more, dearest," said Barron, taking Myra's hand,
+"till dinner time.  Ah, Edie!" he said as he crossed to the door, which
+she was in the act of closing.  Then, in a whisper: "Am I to
+congratulate you?  My present will be a suite of pearls."
+
+Edie started, and Barron smiled, nodded, and passed out.  As he
+descended the stairs his ears twitched, and his whole attention seemed
+to be fixed upon the library door, but he could hear no sound, and,
+taking his hat and gloves from the table, he passed out of the great
+hall, erect, handsome, and with a self-satisfied smile, before the
+butler could reach it in answer to the drawing room bell.
+
+"Wedding a statue," he said to himself.  "But the statue is thickly
+gilt, and the marble underneath may be made to glow without a West
+Indian sun.  So it was little Edie, then.  He hasn't bad taste.  The
+dark horse was not dangerous after all, and was not run for coin."
+
+He was so intent upon his thoughts that he did not notice a hansom cab
+drawn up about a hundred yards from the house, in which a man was
+seated, watching him intently, and leaning forward more and more till he
+was about to pass, when there was a sharp _pst-pst_, which made him turn
+and scowl at the utterer of the signal.
+
+"Hi!  What a while you've been."
+
+"What the devil brings you here?" said Barron.
+
+"To find you, of course," said the man sourly.  "Thought you'd be
+there."
+
+Barron looked quickly toward Sir Mark's house, turned, and said sharply:
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Jump in, and I'll tell you," whispered the man.  "Getting hot."
+
+Barron jumped into the cab, which was rapidly driven off after
+instructions had been given through the trap to the driver, and the next
+minute it was out of sight.
+
+Meanwhile, Edie had stood listening till she heard the hall door closed,
+and then turned to where her cousin was gazing thoughtfully at the
+window, not having moved since Barron left the room.
+
+"Listening to his beloved footsteps, Myra?" said Edie sarcastically.
+
+Myra turned upon her with her eyes flashing, but a smile came upon her
+lips, and she said:
+
+"Well, Edie, am I to congratulate you, too?"
+
+"What about?" flashed out the girl, bitterly mortified by the position
+in which she had been placed.  "Being made a laughing stock for you?"
+
+"What do you mean, dear?" said Myra, startled by the girl's angry way;
+but there was no answer, and, full of eagerness now, Myra caught her
+hands.  "Mr Barron said just now that Mr Stratton came to propose for
+you."
+
+"For me?" cried Edith bitterly.  "Absurd!"
+
+"But I always thought he was so attentive to you, dear.  I always felt
+that you were encouraging him."
+
+"Oh, how can people be so stupidly blind!" cried Edie, snatching herself
+away.  "It is ridiculous."
+
+"But, Edie, he was always with you.  When he came here, or we met him
+and his friend at auntie's--"
+
+"Leave his friend alone, please," raged the girl.  Then, trembling at
+her sudden outburst, she continued seriously:
+
+"Always with me!  Of course he was: to sit and pour into my ears praises
+of you; to talk about your playing and singing, and ask my opinion of
+this and that which you had said and done, till I was sick of the man.
+Do you hear?  Sick of him!"
+
+A mist began to form before Myra's eyes, gradually shutting her in as
+she sank back in her chair, till all around was darkness, and she could
+not see the unwonted excitement of her cousin, who, with her fingers
+tightly enlaced, kept on moving from place to place, and talking
+rapidly.
+
+But there was a bright light beginning to flash out in Myra's inner
+consciousness, and growing moment by moment, till the maiden calm within
+her breast was agitated by the first breathings--the forerunners of a
+tempest--and she saw little thoughts of the past, which she had crushed
+out at once as silly girlish fancies, rising again, and taking solid
+shape.  Looks that had more than once startled her and set her thinking,
+but suppressed at once as follies, now coming back to be illumined by
+this wondrous light, till, in the full awakening that had come, she
+grasped the sides of the chair and began to tremble, as Edie's voice
+came out from beyond the darkness, in which externals were shrouded, the
+essence of all coming home to her in one terrible reproach, as she told
+herself that she had been blind, and that the awakening to the truth had
+come too late.
+
+"How could you--how could you!" cried Edie in a low voice, full of the
+emotion which stirred her.  "You thought I loved Malcolm?  O Myry, as if
+I should have kept it from you if I had.  Like him?  Yes, always as the
+dearest, best fellow I ever met.  I didn't mean it, dear.  I never was
+sick of him; but he used to make me angry, because I felt that he almost
+worshipped you, and was making me a stepping-stone to get nearer.  Well,
+why don't you ask me why I did not speak?"
+
+There was no reply, and Edie went on as if she had been answered.
+
+"Of course I could not say a word.  One day I felt sure that he loved
+you, and would confide in me; the next time we met he was so quiet and
+strange that I told myself it was all fancy, and that I should be a
+silly, match-making creature if I said a word.  Besides, how could I?
+What would uncle, who has been so good to me, have thought if I had
+seemed to encourage it?  And you, all the time, like a horrid, cold,
+marble statue at an exhibition, with no more heart or care, or else you
+would have seen."
+
+Edie relieved her feelings by unlacing her fingers, taking out her
+handkerchief from her pocket and beginning to tear it.
+
+"And now," she went on, "you tell me you believed that he cared for me,
+and suggest that but for this idea things might have been different.
+But they would not have been.  You are a hard, cold, heartless creature,
+Myra.  He was too poor for you, and not likely to buy you diamonds and
+pearls like Mr Barron does.  Promise me pearls, would he!  Insulting me
+as he did this morning!  Why, I would rather have Malcolm Stratton
+without a penny than Mr Barron with all the West Indies and East
+Indies, too, for a portion.  Malcolm is worth a hundred millions of him,
+and I hope you are happy now, for I shouldn't wonder if you've broken
+the poor fellow's heart."
+
+Myra could bear no more, and turning sharply toward her cousin she
+stretched out her hands imploringly, as her pale face, with its wild
+looking, dilated eyes seemed to ask for help.  But the look was not
+seen, for, bursting into a fit of weeping, Edie cried:
+
+"But it's too late now!  I hope you'll be happy, dear, and uncle
+satisfied; but you will repent it, I am sure, for I don't believe you
+love Mr Barron the slightest bit."
+
+As she spoke those last words she left the room, and Myra was alone with
+thoughts which grew and swelled till she felt half suffocated, while,
+like some vibrating, echoing stroke of a distant knell, came the
+repetition of those two words, quivering through every nerve and fibre
+of her being:
+
+"Too late--too late--too late!"
+
+For the bud of love had been lying dormant in her breast, waiting to
+expand, and it was opening fast now, as she felt, but only to be
+withered as its petals fell apart.
+
+Hurried on by Barron's impetuous advances, approved as a suitor by her
+father, her betrothed's courtship had carried all before it.  His
+attentions had pleased her, and she had reproached herself at times
+after he had complained that she was cold.  One evening, when assailed
+by doubts of herself, she had appealed to her father and asked him if he
+wished her to marry Mr Barron, and she recalled his words when she had
+dreamily said that she did not think she loved him.
+
+"Why, of course I wish it, my darling," he cried; "and as to the love--
+oh, that will come.  Don't let schoolgirl fancies and romances which you
+have read influence you, my child.  You esteem Mr Barron, do you not?"
+
+She had said that she did, and then let herself subside into a dreamy
+state, principally taken up by thoughts of the change, the preparations
+for that change, and visions of the glorious country--all sunshine,
+languor, and delights--which Barron never seemed to tire of painting.
+
+But now the awakening had come--now that it was too late!
+
+That night, hollow-eyed, and as if he had risen from a sick bed, Malcolm
+sat writing in his chambers by the light of his shaded lamp.  The old
+panelled room looked weird and strange, and dark shadows lurked in the
+corners and were cast by the flickering flames of the fire on his left.
+
+Since his return from the Jerrolds' he had gone through a phase of agony
+and despair so terrible that his actions, hidden from all within that
+solitary room, had resembled those of the insane; but at last the calm
+had come, and after sitting for some time looking his position in the
+face, he had set to work writing two or three letters, and then
+commenced one full of instructions to Percy Guest, telling him how to
+act when he received that letter, asking his forgiveness, and ending by
+saying:
+
+  I cannot face it.  You will call me a coward, perhaps, but you would
+  not if you could grasp all.  I am perfectly calm now, sensible of the
+  awful responsibilities of my act, but after what I have gone through
+  since I have been here alone to-day I know perfectly well that my
+  reason is failing, and that in a few hours the paroxysm will return,
+  finding me weaker than before.  Better the end at once than after a
+  few months' or years' living death, confined among other miserables
+  like myself.
+
+  It was my all--my one aim, Guest, for which I toiled so hard, fighting
+  for success.  And the good fortune has come in company with a failure
+  so great that the success is nothing.
+
+  Good-bye.
+
+He read his letter over as calmly as if it contained memoranda to send
+to a friend prior to his departure on a short journey.  Then, folding
+it, inclosing it in an envelope, he directed it, and laid it carefully
+beside the others on the table before sinking back in his chair.
+
+"Is there anything else?" he said quietly.
+
+At that moment the clock on a cabinet rung out the musical chimes of
+four quarters, and a deeper toned bell sounded the hour.
+
+"Ten," he said, smiling.  "Two hours more and then the beginning of a
+longer day."
+
+He opened a drawer, took out a parchment label, and wrote upon it
+carefully:
+
+  To Edward Brettison, when time is no more for his obliged and grateful
+  friend, Malcolm Stratton.
+
+Rising from his chair he crossed to the cabinet, tied the label to one
+of the handles of the clock, then opened the door beneath, and laid bare
+a shelf of bottles, while a penetrating odour of camphor and other gums
+floated out into the room--a familiar odour to those who study natural
+history, and preserve specimens of insect or bird life.
+
+He had to move two or three bottles to get at one with a large neck and
+stopper, which he shook up and loosened several pieces of dull looking
+white crystal.  One of these pieces he turned out on to the table by his
+letters, hesitated, and jerked out another.  Then, setting down the
+bottle, he crossed the room to where a table-filter stood on a bracket,
+and returned with the large _carafe_ and a tumbler, which he filled
+nearly full of water.  These two he set down on the table, and taking up
+one of the lumps of crystal he dropped it into the glass, taking care
+that no water should sprinkle over the side.
+
+He held it up to his lamp to see how quickly it would dissolve, set it
+down again, and dropped in the second piece before beginning to tap the
+table with his nails, watching the crystalline pieces the while.
+
+"Quick and painless, I hope," he said quietly.  "Bah!  I can bear a
+little pain."
+
+He turned in his chair with a laugh, which froze upon his lips as he saw
+his shadow on a panel a few yards away, the weird aspect of the moving
+figure having so terrible an effect upon his shattered nerves that he
+sprang from his seat and fled to the wall, where he stood breathing
+hard.
+
+"Yes, I know," he cried wildly.  "Only my shadow, but it is coming
+back--I cannot--it is more than man can bear."
+
+There was a wild despair in his utterance, and he shrank away more and
+more toward the doorway leading to the further room.  Then, as if making
+a supreme effort, he drew himself up erect, with his lips moving rapidly
+in a low murmur, stepped firmly toward the table and seized the glass.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN.
+
+FATE!
+
+Barron was back to dine at the admiral's that night, but the dinner was
+not a success.  Myra was singularly cold and formal in her manner; Edie
+pleaded a headache; and the admiral was worried by recollections of the
+morning's blunder, and felt awkward and constrained with his guest.
+
+Strive hard as he would he could not help making comparisons, and a
+curious feeling of pity came over him as he thought of Stratton's blank
+face and the look of despair in his eyes, while he half wished that he
+had not allowed himself to be so easily won over to the engagement.
+
+"For he is, after all, nearly a stranger," he mused as his son-in-law
+elect tried hard to secure Myra's interest in a society anecdote he was
+retailing, to which she listened and that was all.  "Yes, a stranger,"
+mused Sir Mark.  "I know very little about him.  Bah!  Absurd!  What
+should I know of any man who wanted to marry my girl?  I might meet his
+relatives, and there would be a certain amount of intercourse, but if I
+knew them for fifty years it would not make the man a good husband to my
+poor girl.  He loves her dearly; he is a fine, clever, manly fellow;
+there is no doubt about the Barron estate in Trinidad, and he has a
+handsome balance at his banker's."
+
+The ladies rose soon after, and Barron held the door open, returning
+slowly to his seat, and shrugging his shoulders slightly.  For there had
+been no tender look as Myra passed out, and Barron's thought was
+justified.
+
+"Don't seem as if we were engaged.  I hope," he said aloud, "Myra is not
+unwell."
+
+"Eh?  Oh, no, my dear boy, no.  Girls do come over grumpy sometimes.
+Here, try this claret, and let's have a cozy chat for an hour before we
+go up."
+
+"An hour?" said Barron, with a raising of the eyebrows.
+
+"Yes; why not?  You're not a love-sick boy, and you'll have plenty of
+your wife by and by."
+
+"Not a boy, certainly, sir.  As to the love-sickness--well, I don't
+know.  But--yes, that's a good glass of claret.  Larose, eh?"
+
+"Yes.  Fill your glass again."
+
+"Willingly," said Baron, obeying his host, and pushing back the jug,
+"for I want to talk to you, sir, very seriously, and one seems to get on
+over a glass of wine."
+
+"To talk to me?" said Sir Mark sharply, for his nerves were still ajar.
+"Nothing the matter?"
+
+"Yes--and no."
+
+"Look here, Barron," cried Sir Mark excitedly, "no beating about the
+bush.  If you want to draw back from your engagement say so like a man."
+
+"If I want to draw back from my engagement, my dear sir?  What in the
+world are you thinking about?"
+
+"I--er--well, your manner was so strange."
+
+"Not strange, Sir Mark: serious.  There are serious moments in my life.
+By the way, I have seen my solicitor again respecting the settlements,
+and the papers will be ready at any time."
+
+"No hurry, sir, no hurry," said Sir Mark, frowning.  "Well?"
+
+Barron drew a long breath.
+
+"Well, what is it, man--what is wrong?"
+
+"Only the old story.  When the cat's away the mice will play."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I've had bad news from my agent in Trinidad."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"He writes to me by this mail that he has done his best, but the estate
+needs my immediate supervision--that he cannot exert the same influence
+and authority that I should."
+
+"Losses?"
+
+"Oh, no; gains--that is, a little on the right side.  But a little is
+absurd.  Those plantations ought to produce a princely revenue."
+
+The admiral looked at his guest keenly.
+
+"Well," he said at last, "what does this mean?"
+
+"That in spite of everything--my own desires and the love I have for
+England--I shall have to run across as soon as possible."
+
+"For how long?"
+
+"I cannot say--probably for a year."
+
+"Hah!" ejaculated the admiral, with a sigh of relief.  "A year before he
+would be compelled to part with his child."
+
+"And under the circumstances, Sir Mark, I am obliged to throw myself
+upon your mercy."
+
+"What do you mean?" cried the admiral in alarm.
+
+"Can you ask, sir?" said Barron reproachfully.  "I know it is making a
+great demand upon you and dear Myra; but life is short, and I ask you if
+my position would not be terrible.  It would be like exile to me.  I
+could not bear it.  I would say to my agent, `Let the estate go to--'
+never mind where; but that would be courting ruin at a time when I am
+beginning to learn the value of money, as a slave of the lamp, who can,
+at my lightest order, bring everything I desire to lay at my darling's
+feet."
+
+"You mean," cried the admiral hotly, "that you want the wedding hurried
+on?"
+
+"To be plain, Sir Mark, I do.  In a month from now.  I must go by the
+next mail boat but one."
+
+"It is impossible, sir!" cried Sir Mark.
+
+Barron shook his head and the admiral changed his position in his chair.
+
+"But Myra?" he cried.  "Oh, she would never consent to its being so
+soon."
+
+"I believe our dear Myra would, in the sweetness of her disposition
+alone, consent, Sir Mark," said Barron gravely; "and as soon as she
+knows of the vital importance of time to the man who will be her
+husband, she will endeavour to meet his wishes in every way."
+
+"Yes, yes; she is a dear, good girl," said Sir Mark; "but this is
+terrible: so soon."
+
+"The time for parting must come, Sir Mark, sooner or later; and think:
+it is for her benefit and happiness.  Well, yes, I must confess to my
+own selfish wishes."
+
+"And then there is her aunt--my sister.  She would never consent to--
+Yes, I know exactly what she would say--such indecent haste."
+
+"Only an elderly lady's objection, Sir Mark," said Barron, smiling.
+"You are certainly bringing forward a real difficulty now, for I fear
+that I have never found favour in Miss Jerrold's eyes.  But surely she
+has no right to dictate in a case like this.  Nay, let us have no
+opposition.  I will appeal to Miss Jerrold myself.  She is too
+high-minded and sweet a lady to stand in the way of her niece's and my
+happiness.  I am satisfied of that.  Come, Sir Mark, look at the case
+plainly.  You have been a sailor, sir, and know the meaning of sudden
+orders to join.  Nothing would stop you.  Mine are not so sudden, for I
+have--that is, at all risks, I will have--a month.  My fortune is at
+stake--Myra's fortune, I may say.  Help me as you feel the case
+deserves."
+
+The admiral was silent for a few minutes, during which he filled and
+emptied his claret glass twice.
+
+"You've floored me, Barron," he said at last.  "I can't find an argument
+against you."
+
+"Then you consent?  And you will help me in every way?"
+
+"It is hard work, my boy--a terrible wrench, but I suppose I must.  In a
+month," he muttered; "so soon--and for her to sail right away for a
+whole year."
+
+Barron wrung his hand hard and smiled.
+
+"How long will it be, my dear sir, before your old taste for the sea
+returns?  Why, you'll be running across before three months are past.
+Really I should not be surprised if you announced that you meant to come
+with us."
+
+"Hah!  Why not?" cried Sir Mark eagerly.  "No, no; that would not do.
+But I certainly will run over before long."
+
+"Do, sir," cried Barron eagerly.
+
+"Barbadoes, Bahamas, Bermuda," cried Sir Mark.  "Why, I could take a
+trip anywhere among the islands.  It's all familiar ground to me.  But
+poor Myra--a month; so soon.  I don't feel as if I am doing right,
+Barron; but there, it is fate."
+
+"Yes, sir, it is fate."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE.
+
+GUEST PAYS A LATE VISIT.
+
+The crystals had dissolved in the glass as Stratton held it up and gazed
+fixedly at its contents, his face, stern and calm, dimly seen in the
+shadow, while the shape of the vessel he grasped was plainly delineated
+against the white blotting paper, upon which a circle of bright light
+was cast by the shaded lamp.
+
+He was not hesitating, but thinking calmly enough.  The paroxysm of
+horror had been mastered, and as a step was faintly heard crossing the
+court, he was trying to think out whether there was anything else which
+he ought to do before that cold hand gripped him and it would be too
+late.
+
+He looked round, set down the glass for a moment by his letters, and
+thrusting aside the library chair he used at his writing table, he
+wheeled forward a lounge seat ready to receive him as he sank back,
+thinking quietly that the action of the terrible acid would perhaps be
+very sudden.
+
+Anything more?
+
+He smiled pleasantly, for a fresh thought flashed across his mind, and
+taking an envelope he bent down and directed it plainly, and without the
+slightest trembling of his hand, to Mrs Brade.
+
+"Poor, gossiping old thing!" he said.  "She has been very kind to me.
+It will be a shock, but she must bear it like the rest."
+
+He took a solitary five-pound note from his pocketbook, thrust it into
+the envelope, wrote inside the flap, "For your own use," and moistened
+and secured it before placing it with the other letters.
+
+"About nine to-morrow morning she will find it," he thought, "and then--
+poor soul! poor soul!  The police and--I shall be asleep."
+
+"God--forgive me!" he said slowly as, after a step in front of the
+easy-chair he had placed ready, he once more raised the glass, and
+closing his eyes:
+
+"To Myra," he said, with a bitter laugh; and it was nearly at his lips
+when there was a sharp double knock at his outer door.
+
+A fierce look of anger came into his countenance as he stood glaring in
+the direction of the summons.  Then, raising the glass again, he was
+about to drink when there was a louder knocking.
+
+Stratton hesitated, set down the glass, crossed the room, and threw open
+the doors, first one and then the other, with the impression upon him
+that by some means his intentions had been divined and that it was the
+police.
+
+"Having a nap, old fellow?" cried Guest hurriedly, as he stepped in,
+Stratton involuntarily giving way.  "I was crossing the inn and saw your
+light.  Thought I'd drop in for a few moments before going to my perch."
+
+He did not say that he had been pacing the inn and its precincts for
+hours, longing to hear the result of his friend's visit to Bourne
+Square, but unable to make up his mind to go up till the last, when, in
+a fit of desperation, he had mounted the stairs.
+
+"I will not quarrel with him if he is the winner.  One was obliged to go
+down.  I can't afford to lose lover and friend in one day, even if it
+does make one sore."
+
+He had taken that sentence and said it in a hundred different ways that
+evening, and it was upon his lips as he had at last knocked at
+Stratton's door.
+
+Upon his first entrance he had not noticed anything particular in his
+friend, being in a feverish, excited state, full of his own
+disappointment; but as Stratton remained silent, gazing hard at him, he
+looked in his face wonderingly; and as, by the half light, he made out
+his haggard countenance and the wild, staring look in his eyes, a rush
+of hope sent the blood bubbling, as it were, through his veins.  "Has
+she refused him?" rang in his ears, and, speechless for the moment, with
+his heart throbbing wildly, and his throat hot and dry, he took a step
+forward as he saw _carafe_ and water glass before him, caught up the
+latter, and raised it to his lips.
+
+But only to start back in wonder and alarm, for, with a hoarse cry,
+Stratton struck the glass from his hand, scattered its contents over the
+hearthrug, and the glass itself flew into fragments against the bars of
+the grate.
+
+"Here, what's the matter with you, old fellow?" cried Guest wonderingly.
+"Don't act like that."
+
+Stratton babbled a few incoherent words, and sank back in the lounge,
+covering his face with his hands, and a hoarse hysterical cry escaped
+from his lips.
+
+Guest looked at him in astonishment, then at the table, where, in the
+broad circle of light, he saw the letters his friend had written, one
+being directed to himself.
+
+They explained little, but the next instant he saw the wide-mouthed,
+stoppered bottle, caught it up, examined the label, and held it at arm's
+length.
+
+"The cyanide!" he cried excitedly.  "Mal!  Stratton, old chap!  Good
+God!  You surely--no, it is impossible.  Speak to me, old man!  Tell me,
+or I shall go mad!  Did Edie refuse you?"
+
+Stratton's hands dropped from his face as he rose in his seat, staring
+wildly at his friend.
+
+"Edie!" he said wonderingly.
+
+"Yes, Edie!" cried Guest excitedly as he bent down toward his friend.
+"Here, stop a minute; what shall I do with this cursed stuff?"
+
+Striding to the window, he threw it open, leaned out, and dashed the
+bottle down upon the pavement, shivering it and its contents to
+fragments.
+
+"Now speak," he cried as soon as he had returned.  "No fooling, man;
+speak the truth."
+
+"Edie?" said Stratton again as he sat there trembling as if smitten by
+some dire disease.
+
+"Yes.  You told me you were going to tell her of your success--to ask
+the admiral to give you leave to speak to her."
+
+"No, no," said Stratton slowly.
+
+"Are you mad, or have you been drinking?" cried Guest angrily, and he
+caught his friend by the shoulders.
+
+"Don't--don't, Percy," said Stratton feebly.  "I'm not myself to-night.
+I--I--Why did you come?" he asked vacantly.
+
+"Because it was life or death to me," cried Guest.  "I couldn't say a
+word to you then, but I've loved little Edie ever since we first met.
+You were my friend, Mal, and I couldn't say anything when I saw you two
+so thick together.  She seemed to prefer your society to mine, and she
+had a right to choose.  I've been half-mad to-day since you told me you
+cared for her, but I couldn't sleep till I knew all the worst."
+
+"I told you I loved Edith Perrin?"
+
+"Yes!  Are you so stupefied by what you have taken that you don't know
+what you are saying?"
+
+"I know what I am saying," said Stratton, almost in a whisper.  "I never
+told you that."
+
+"I swear you did, man.  You don't know what you say."
+
+"I told you I was going to see the admiral.  All a mistake--your's--
+mine," he gasped feebly.
+
+"What do you mean?" cried Guest, shaking him.
+
+"I always liked little Edie, but it was Myra I loved."
+
+"What?" cried Guest wildly.
+
+"I spoke to her father to-day, plainly, as--as--an honest man.  Too
+late, old fellow; too late."
+
+"Too late?"
+
+"She is engaged--to be married--to the admiral's friend."
+
+"Barron?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I thought as much.  Then it was all a mistake about Edie!" cried Guest
+wildly.  "I beg your pardon, Mal.  I'm excited, too.  I'm awfully sorry,
+though, old man.  But tell me," he cried, changing his manner.  "Those
+letters--that glass?  Great Heavens!  You were never going to be such a
+madman, such an idiot, as to--Oh, say it was all a mistake!"
+
+"That I should have been a dead man by this?" said Stratton solemnly.
+"That was no mistake," he murmured piteously.  "What is there to live
+for now?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
+
+THE WEDDING DAY.
+
+Four weeks had passed since Malcolm Stratton's insane attempt--four
+weeks of an utterly prostrating illness from which he was slowly
+recovering, when, one morning, Guest entered the room where Brettison
+was seated by his friend's couch, and made an announcement which wrought
+a sudden change in the convalescent.
+
+"I expected it," he said quietly; and then, after a pause, "I will go
+with you."
+
+Guest opened and shut his mouth without speaking for a few moments.
+Then:
+
+"Go--with me?  You go with me?  Why, it would be madness."
+
+"Madness, madness, old fellow," said Stratton feebly, "but I tell you I
+am quite strong now."
+
+"Very far from it," said Brettison.
+
+"And I say so too," cried Guest.  "Look here, old fellow, do you mean to
+assert that you are _compos mentis_?"
+
+"Of course," said Stratton, smiling.
+
+"Then I say you are not," cried Guest, "and Mr Brettison will second
+me.  You are weak as a rat in spite of all our watching, and feeding,
+and care."
+
+"All this long, weary month," sighed Stratton.  "Heaven bless you both
+for what you have done."
+
+"Never mind about blessings; be a little grateful to Mr Brettison, who
+has been like a hundred hospital nurses rolled into one, and give up
+this mad idea."
+
+"But it is not mad," pleaded Stratton.  "I only want to go to the
+church.  I am quite strong enough now.  I want to see her married, that
+is all.  Mr Brettison, you see how calm I am."
+
+"Yes, very," said the old botanist, smiling sadly.  "Calm with your
+temples throbbing and your veins too full.  My dear boy, if you go to
+that wedding, you will over-excite yourself and we shall have a serious
+relapse."
+
+"If I do go?" said Stratton quietly.  "I shall certainly have it.  I
+mean to go."
+
+He rose from the couch on which he had been lying, walked into the
+bedroom, and closed the door.
+
+"Did you ever see such a mule, Mr Brettison?" cried Guest as soon as
+they were alone.  "I was a fool to come in and tell him I was going; but
+I thought he had got over it, and he knew it was to-day."
+
+"You are going as one of the friends?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Jerrold asked me," said Guest, rather consciously; "and of
+course he would have known afterward, and reproached me for not telling
+him.  What is to be done?"
+
+"Certainly not thwart him," replied Brettison.  "I was going out into
+the country to-day."
+
+"Collecting?"
+
+"Yes, my dear sir, a little.  My great hobby, Mr Guest.  But I will not
+go.  We should do more harm than good by stopping him, so I'll go to the
+church with him."
+
+"But I dread a scene," said Guest.  "Suppose he should turn wild at
+seeing her lead up the aisle.  Fancy the consequences.  It would be
+cruel to the lady.  It is not as if she had jilted him."
+
+"Never cared for him a bit, did she?" whispered Brettison.
+
+"H'm!  Well, sir, I don't quite like to say.  At all events, Miss Myra
+Jerrold accepted this Mr Barron before poor old Malcolm spoke a word,
+and I am convinced that she felt certain he did not care for her."
+
+"An unfortunate business, Guest.  Poor lad! poor lad!  But there, he
+recovered, and any opposition would, I am sure, throw him back."
+
+"But the lady?"
+
+"Have no fear; Malcolm Stratton will, I am sure, be guilty of no insane
+folly.  I know him better than you, Guest."
+
+"I think not," said the young man, smiling.
+
+"We will not argue the point," replied the old botanist, taking Guest's
+hand.  "We both think we know him better than anyone else, and after all
+have not half sounded the depths of his nature."
+
+"Well, I leave him to you," said Guest.  "I have no time to spare.  I'm
+off now, old fellow," he cried, approaching the bedroom door.
+
+"All right," cried Stratton cheerfully as he came back and held out his
+hand.  "My kindest regards to Edie.  Don't be afraid, old fellow; I am
+going to behave sensibly.  You need not fear a scene."
+
+"But I--"
+
+"Don't deny it, lad.  Off with you," said Stratton, smiling at his
+friend's confusion; and he accompanied him out on to the landing.  "God
+bless her!" he said.  "I wish her every happiness with the man of her
+choice.  It's all over now, and I can bear it like a man."
+
+They shook hands and parted, and when, an hour later, Guest saw Myra
+enter the room, where he was just snatching a hurried word with Edie, he
+was startled at the white, set face, and strange, dreamy eyes, which
+looked in his when he spoke to her.
+
+But what had been a bitter fight was at an end, and all its secrets
+hidden in the bride's own breast.  For a time, as it had dawned upon her
+that there was something warmer than friendship in her breast for
+Malcolm Stratton, she shrank in horror from the idea of pledging herself
+to the man she had accepted; but she fought with and crushed down her
+feelings.  Stratton must, she felt, despise her now, and she was engaged
+to Barron.  It was her father's wish, and she had promised to be this
+man's wife, while that he loved her he gave her no room to doubt.
+
+"I _will_ do my duty by him," she said proudly to herself as she took
+her father's arm; and as Guest was driven in another of the carriages to
+the church, he thought to himself that his friend had been blind in his
+love, for Myra was hard and unemotional as her cousin was sweet and
+lovable he misjudged her again as he saw her leave the church leaning
+upon her husband's arm, while now he was privileged to escort Edie, one
+of the four bridesmaids, back to Bourne Square.
+
+"She never would have cared for poor old Malcolm," he said to himself as
+he followed the newly married couple with his eyes, Barron careworn and
+nearly as pale as his wife, but looking proud, eager, and handsome, as
+he handed Myra into the carriage.
+
+"The happy pair," whispered Edie as she placed her little hand upon
+Guest's arm.  "Get me to the carriage, please, as quickly as you can, or
+I shall cry and make a scene."
+
+"Yes, yes," he whispered back.  "This way; but, Edie, I've been looking
+all round the church and can't see him.  Did you catch sight of
+Stratton?"
+
+"No," said the girl with some asperity, "and did not wish to.  I could
+only see that poor girl going through the ceremony, and I felt all the
+time I could read her thoughts.  O Percy Guest, if she only had not had
+so much pride, or Malcolm Stratton had been as bold as he was shrinking
+and strange, this never could have been!"
+
+Back at Bourne Square, with all the hurry and excitement of a wedding
+morning.  The house crowded with friends, and Sir Mark all eagerness to
+do the honours of his place well to all.  Carriages thronged the
+roadway; a couple of policemen kept back the little crowd, and the
+admiral's servants, re-enforced by half a dozen of Gunter's men, had a
+busy time supplying the wants of the guests.
+
+"Well, you two," said a voice, suddenly, behind Edie, who was listening
+to a remark made by Guest, "don't look in that dreamy way at everyone.
+I've been watching you for ever so long.  Don't you know that this is
+the happiest day of Myra's life?"
+
+"No, aunt," said Edie shortly; "do you?"
+
+Miss Jerrold shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Go and keep near her, my dear, till they leave.  I haven't the heart.
+Edie, am I a wretchedly prejudiced old maid, or is there something not
+nice about that man?"
+
+"Ah, there you are, Edie," cried the admiral excitedly.  "Myra is just
+going to cut the cake.  Mr Guest, take my sister and give her some
+champagne.  Edie, my dear, I don't like poor Myra's looks.  I must see
+to the people, and have a word with James Barron before they start; and
+I've got to speak, too, and how to get through it I don't know."
+
+"What do you want me to do, uncle?"
+
+"What I told you, my dear," cried the old man testily.  "Go and keep
+with my poor darling till the last."
+
+Edie crept to her cousin's side and stayed there during the admiral's
+speech, one which contained more heart than head; listened with heaving
+breast to the toast of the bride's health, and to the well-spoken, manly
+reply made by James Barron.  And so on till the time when the bride
+might slip away to change her dress for the journey down to Southampton,
+the wedding trip commencing the next day on board the great steamer
+outward bound for the West.
+
+"Guest, my lad," said the admiral, drawing the young man aside,
+"servants are all very well, but I'd be thankful if you'd see yourself
+that Mr Barron's carriage is up to the door in time.  Myra is not well,
+and she has sent a message to me to beg that she may be allowed to slip
+away quietly with few good-byes.  I suppose the people will have all the
+satin slipper and rice throwing tomfoolery."
+
+"You may depend upon me, Sir Mark," said Guest eagerly; and he set about
+his task at once, greatly to the butler's disgust.
+
+The minutes went swiftly then; the guests gathering on the staircase and
+crowding the hall, while the carriage, with its servants, stood waiting,
+with an avenue of people down to the door.
+
+Guest was on the step seeing that the wraps and various little articles
+needed on the journey were handed in.  Barron, looking flushed and
+proud, was in the hall, with his hand grasped by Sir Mark, and a murmur
+of excitement and a cheer announced that the bride was coming down, when
+the bridegroom's carriage began to move on.
+
+The sudden starting of the horses made Guest turn sharply.
+
+"Hi!  Stop!  Do you hear?" he shouted, and several of the servants
+waiting outside took up the cry, "Coming down."  But the carriage moved
+on and a four-wheeled cab took its place, amid a roar of laughter from
+the crowd.
+
+At the same moment three businesslike looking men stepped into the hall,
+and before the butler and footmen could stop them they were close up to
+the foot of the staircase.
+
+Sir Mark turned upon them angrily, but one of them gripped his arm and
+said quickly:
+
+"Sir Mark Jerrold?"
+
+"Yes.  What is this intrusion?"
+
+"Upstairs, sir, quick.  Stop the young lady from coming down."
+
+The man's manner was so impressive that it forced Sir Mark to act, and
+he shouted up the broad staircase:
+
+"Edie! one moment--not yet."
+
+Then, as if resenting the fact that he should have obeyed this man, he
+turned sharply in time to hear the words:
+
+"James Dale--in the queen's name.  Here is my warrant.  No nonsense; we
+are three to one."
+
+The bridegroom was struggling in the policemen's arms, and in the hand
+which he freed there was a revolver.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
+
+STRATTON'S THANKSGIVING.
+
+There was a slight struggle, the sharp click of steel, and before Sir
+Mark could find words to express his rage and astonishment, Barron was
+being hurried out of the hall by two of the men who had made the
+unceremonious entry, while the two policemen there for another purpose,
+in answer to some freemasonry of the force, opened the cab door, and saw
+the vehicle driven off.
+
+Sir Mark had meantime made an effort to follow, but the man who had
+spoken barred his way.
+
+"You scoundrel!  Who are you?" roared the admiral.  "What does this
+mean?"
+
+"Superintendent Abingdon, Great Scotland Yard, sir," was the quiet
+reply.  "It means, sir, that I've saved the young lady from a painful
+scene, and you from a terrible mishap."
+
+"But, oh, there is some horrible blunder!  That is my friend, my
+son-in-law, Mr Barron."
+
+"No, sir, an alias.  James Dale, whom we have wanted for months.  Dodged
+us by keeping abroad.  Couldn't run him to earth before--stayed on the
+Continent; and he was off abroad again, but we were just in time."
+
+"I tell you," thundered Sir Mark, "it is a horrible mistake.  Here,
+Guest--the carriage: we must follow them at once.  Ladies, some of you--
+oh, here is my sister.  Rebecca, go up to Myra and keep her in her room.
+A little mistake; Barron has been called away--a business mistake.
+Tell her to be calm.  Now, sir," he cried sternly to the officer, "you
+do not leave my side.  Mr Guest, come with us."
+
+"Where to, Sir Mark?" said the man quietly.
+
+"To Scotland Yard."
+
+"Excuse me, sir; it is no mistake.  I'll go with you, of course, but you
+will thank me one of those days for being so prompt.  You have been
+imposed upon by one of the cleverest scoundrels of his time.  James Dale
+is--"
+
+"Mr James Barron, man."
+
+"No, Sir Mark; James Dale, charged with swindling the Russian government
+of a tremendous sum by the issuing of forged rouble notes."
+
+"What?"
+
+"And just off to Buenos Ayres."
+
+"To the West Indies, man--to his estate."
+
+"Yes, sir," said the man dryly; "he's going to his estate, but it isn't
+there."
+
+Sir Mark looked wildly round at the crowd of friends who were drawing
+away, and without another word accompanied the officer to the carriage,
+where, as soon as they were started, the latter addressed himself to
+Guest, the admiral having sunk back in one corner, trying to collect his
+thoughts, but only to begin listening intently.
+
+"No mistake, sir," said the officer.  "I wish for the gentleman's sake
+there was.  The prisoner has been carrying on the game for a long time
+with a copper-plate printer, a man named Henderson--Samuel Henderson.
+We took him an hour ago, and it was through a letter we found in his
+pocket that we knew what was going on here, and arrived just in time for
+the young lady."
+
+Guest glanced at Sir Mark and met his eyes.
+
+"Quite the gentleman, our friend Dale," continued the officer.
+"Schoolmaster once, I found.  Speaks languages, plays, and sings.  Great
+yachting man.  Deceive anybody; but his game's up now.  Couldn't live in
+England as it was.  Where did he say he was going--West Indies, sir?"
+
+Guest nodded.
+
+"Well, he was going on farther south.  He had taken tickets for the
+River Plate."
+
+Sir Mark started violently.
+
+There was silence for a few moments, and Guest's resentment against Myra
+died out as he thought of the poor girl in the power of a scoundrel
+thousands of miles from home.
+
+"Lady has money, I suppose?" whispered the officer from behind his hand.
+
+Guest gave a short, sharp nod, and then felt annoyed with himself, but
+the officer took no heed and went on:
+
+"Of course she would have, sir.  Well, my gentleman will not be able to
+touch that, and I suppose there will be no difficulty about getting a
+divorce."
+
+At those words a flood of thought flashed through Guest's brain, and he
+recalled conversations held with Edie respecting the marriage, and the
+girl's boldly expressed belief that her cousin would gladly have drawn
+back but for her promise and her pride.
+
+He would have hurried off to Benchers' Inn with the information, but he
+was bound to go on to the police office and see the matter through with
+Sir Mark; and in due time they reached Scotland Yard, to find Barron, or
+Dale, in a kind of desk, listening carelessly to the evidence given by
+the officers who had helped to execute the warrant.
+
+But the man's whole aspect changed as he saw Sir Mark and Guest enter.
+
+"Hah!" he cried; "at last.  Now, Mr Inspector, or whatever you are,
+this is Admiral Sir Mark Jerrold, my father-in-law.  The whole affair is
+one of mistaken identity.  For Heaven's sake, my dear sir, satisfy these
+people as to my responsibility, and act as bail for my reappearance.  Of
+course there will be no Southampton to-day.  How does Myra bear the
+shock?"
+
+Sir Mark's opinion veered toward the speaker directly, and turning to
+the officer who had been his companion from the house, he found him
+smiling.
+
+"There, sir, I told you it was all a mistake."
+
+"Yes, Sir Mark, you did," said the man respectfully; and then to a
+couple of policemen: "Bring them in."
+
+"The luggage?" cried Guest as he saw what was being borne in by the men.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the officer.  "I stepped back to give instructions to
+our men to bring on everything from the carriage, and the trunks sent on
+to Waterloo.  They must be searched for incriminating evidence.  The
+lady's luggage will be sent back to Bourne Square at once."
+
+"The insolence of the scoundrels!" cried Barron.  "My dear Sir Mark,
+pray get this wretched business finished."
+
+"I can save the gentleman a good deal of trouble, Dale," said the
+inspector in charge.
+
+"Are you addressing me, sir?" said the prisoner haughtily.
+
+"Won't do, Dale; the game's up," said the inspector, smiling.  Then to
+Sir Mark:
+
+"I am sorry for you, sir, but this is no case for bail."
+
+"But I will be his security for any amount," cried Sir Mark, who crushed
+down the belief that he had been deceived.
+
+"Yes, of course, of course," cried the prisoner.
+
+"No good, Mr Dale.  You can renew the application to the magistrate,"
+said the inspector.
+
+He made a sign, and after a furious burst of protestations the prisoner
+gave up.
+
+"Communicate with Garner of Ely Place at once for me, Sir Mark," he said
+at parting.  "It will be all right.  Comfort Myra, and tell her it's an
+absurd mistake," he continued as Guest was looking at a letter the
+detective officer held for his perusal; and then he turned indignantly
+as Barron held out his hand.
+
+Sir Mark was about to take it when Guest struck the hand down.
+
+"How dare you?" began the prisoner.
+
+"Don't touch the scoundrel, Sir Mark," cried Guest fiercely.  "It is all
+true."
+
+"You cur!" roared the prisoner.  "You turn against me?  But I know the
+reason for that: our friend the rejected in Benchers' Inn."
+
+"Come away, Sir Mark," cried Guest.  "The man is an utter knave."
+
+"I will not believe it," cried Sir Mark.
+
+"Read that letter, then," said Guest quietly, "written on paper bearing
+your crest, from your own house, to his confederate Samuel Henderson,
+the printer of the forged Russian notes."
+
+Sir Mark sat silent and thoughtful in the corner of his carriage as he
+and Guest were driven back, till they were near the house, when he
+turned suddenly to his companion.
+
+"Thank you, Guest," he said warmly.  "Nothing like a friend in need.
+Hang it, sir, I'd sooner take my ships into action again than meet my
+guests here at home.  But it has to be done," he said, "and our side
+beaten.  I will not believe that Mr Barron is guilty, nor yet that I
+could have been made a fool.  The man is a gentleman, and I'll stand by
+him to the last in spite of all that is said against him.  What do you
+say, sir--what do you say?"
+
+"Do you wish me to speak, Sir Mark?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Then I say that the man is an utter scoundrel; that you have been
+horribly deceived; and that--there, I am making you angry."
+
+"Not a bit, Guest; not a bit.  I'm afraid you are right, but I must
+fight this out."
+
+The door was reached and Sir Mark uttered a sigh of relief, for there
+was no crowd--not a carriage to be seen; and, upon entering the house,
+it was to find that every friend and visitor had departed.
+
+Sir Mark strode in upright and firm, and Guest stopped to say good-bye.
+
+"No, no, my lad; don't leave me yet," said the old man.  "Come up and
+face the ladies first."
+
+He led the way up into the drawing room, expecting to find Myra
+prostrate; but there was only one figure to greet him--his sister.  The
+door, however, had hardly closed before Edie, who had been with her
+cousin, ran into the room flushed and eager.
+
+"Where is Myra?"
+
+"Lying down, uncle.  We--auntie and I--persuaded her to go to her room."
+
+"Is she much broken down--much--"
+
+"My dear Mark!" cried his sister sharply, "Myra is a sensible girl.
+Now, then, don't keep us in suspense.  Tell me: is it all true about
+that man?"
+
+"Yes, Rebecca--I mean no," cried Sir Mark furiously; "of course not, and
+I'm going to instruct counsel and--damme, it's some enemy's work.  I'll
+pour such a broadside into him!  Why, confound it all!" he cried, as a
+sudden thought struck him, and he turned to Guest, "this must be some of
+your friend's work."
+
+"Sir Mark!"
+
+"Oh, uncle!"
+
+"Don't talk stuff, Mark," cried his sister almost at the same moment.
+"Is it likely?  Then it is all true.  What an escape!  Well, I'm glad it
+happened when it did."
+
+Sir Mark gave a furious stamp on the floor, but turned calmly enough on
+Guest offering his hand.
+
+"You will excuse me now, Sir Mark."
+
+"Eh?  What?  Going?  Well, if you must.  But don't leave me in the
+lurch, my lad.  Come back and have a bit of dinner with me.  I shall be
+very dull.  No; I won't ask you here.  It will be miserable.  Meet me at
+the club."
+
+Guest promised, and then shook hands with Miss Jerrold, who pressed his
+fingers warmly; but when he turned to say good-bye to Edie she was not
+in the room.
+
+"Too upset," he muttered as he went down.  "Might have said good-bye,
+though."
+
+"Good-bye, Mr Guest," came from the little conservatory half-way down
+to the hall; and there was Edie waiting.  "No, no; don't stop me.  I
+must run up to Myra.  Good-bye, Percy.  Oh, I am so glad."
+
+"Good-bye, _Percy_--good-bye, _Percy_," Guest kept on saying to himself
+as he walked slowly along one side of the square.  "_Percy_, for the
+first time.  Good Heavens, Mal!" he cried, starting as a hand was thrust
+under his arm--"you?  I was coming on.  I've something particular to
+tell you."
+
+"Thank you," said Stratton quietly.  "I know everything."
+
+"What?  I did not see you at the church."
+
+"No; I had not the heart to come.  I said I would, but I stayed away."
+
+"Good.  Right," said Guest.
+
+"But I was obliged to come to see her go--for one glance unseen."
+
+"And you saw the arrest?"
+
+"I saw the struggle in the crowd.  A man hurried into a cab, which was
+driven off.  I was some distance away--in the square."
+
+"Ah!" ejaculated Guest, and then there was a pause, broken at last by
+Stratton, who said solemnly:
+
+"Saved from a life of misery and despair.  Thank God! thank God!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
+
+WIFE TO A CONVICT.
+
+Sir Mark awoke the next morning thoroughly convinced that he had been
+the victim of a scoundrel, but he kept his word, and did everything
+possible in the way of providing able legal assistance for his
+son-in-law.  He had taken Myra and her cousin at once to a retired
+seaside place within easy reach of town, and made James Dale's case the
+sole business of his life.
+
+It was a two days' business, that trial, owing to the efforts made by
+the counsel for the defence, who fought their client's cause gallantly.
+But it was a losing game from beginning to end; the proofs were utterly
+crushing.  James Dale had obtained a large income from the forgeries for
+years, and his companion in the iniquity had purchased property
+extensively.  The West Indian estates were certainly in existence, and
+belonged to a family named Barron, but in the prisoner's case the name
+was assumed, and in his real patronymic he, with his confederate, was
+sentenced to seven years' penal servitude.
+
+"Deserved it, every hour," said Sir Mark, with a sigh of relief, as he
+drove away from the court with Guest.  "Now for a few months of quiet
+abroad, and then I shall have to see the lawyers again."
+
+Guest looked at him inquiringly.
+
+"Eh?  What do I mean?  Well, I don't understand much about such matters,
+but surely under the circumstances the laws of England will not keep my
+child tied to such a rascal as that."
+
+Guest was about to speak, but the old man interrupted him.
+
+"Fancy, my lad, after an apprenticeship of seven years to a convict's
+life that fellow knocking at my door, and Andrews coming up to say that
+he had called for his wife."
+
+Guest shuddered: the idea was horrible.
+
+"No, no, my lad; that would not do at all.  But there, say no more about
+it now.  By and by I shall hear what the lawyers think about a divorce."
+
+They shook hands and parted, the admiral going home, and Guest straight
+to his friend's chambers, where he knocked, but there was no answer.
+
+Brettison came out, though, from the adjoining room.
+
+"He has not come back yet from the trial," Brettison said.
+
+"Indeed!  I looked round the court, but could not see him there.  You
+have heard, of course?"
+
+"The verdict?  Yes, I was there."
+
+The two men looked inquiringly into each others' eyes, and just then a
+step was heard upon the stairs.
+
+"Here he is," whispered Guest, and the next minute, looking very calm
+and self-possessed, Stratton joined them, and asked them in; but
+Brettison declined, and went back to his own chambers, while Guest
+followed his friend into his room, thinking, as he entered the quiet,
+retired place, of how his coming had changed the current of Stratton's
+career.
+
+"Sit down, old fellow," said Stratton cheerfully, and he opened the
+closet by the fireplace to reach down a box of cigars, which he handed
+to Guest, and then took one himself.
+
+"Now for it," thought Guest as Stratton sat back, looking pale still and
+thin from his illness; but he only went on smoking, apparently waiting
+for his friend to speak.
+
+"And I don't know what to say," thought Guest.
+
+He was relieved from his embarrassment at last by Stratton beginning to
+talk about one of the current topics of the day, and he left the
+chambers at last without there having been the slightest reference to
+the trial.
+
+Guest found his way to Bourne Square the next afternoon, and was
+startled to find all the shutters closed and the blinds drawn in the
+upper rooms.
+
+"Out of town" seemed written plainly all over the house, for that
+nothing serious was the matter was evident from a friendly chat going on
+at the area gate between two maids, who had dispensed with the hated
+headgear of slavery--caps--and were laughing with a rustic looking young
+milkman.
+
+Guest took a cab and drove to Miss Jerrold's, in Bayswater, to find that
+lady at home and ready to welcome him.
+
+"Gone, my dear boy," she said.  "Gone to Rome first, and the best thing
+too.  Ugh!  I never liked that man, Percy Guest.  He looked like silver,
+but I could feel that he was only electro-plate.  Well, poor Myra had a
+terrible escape.  It was, of course, her money, and he looked for some
+of mine."
+
+"But when are they coming back, Miss Jerrold?"
+
+"Oh, not for a long time, I hope.  It will be the best thing in the
+world for poor Myra, and I have been thinking that I shall go and join
+them soon.  Not till they have all had time to calm down.  There is
+nothing to mind till then."
+
+She said these last words so meaningly that Guest gave her an inquiring
+look, and the old lady smiled.
+
+"You want to know why I said that," she said, "Well, I'll tell you,
+Percy Guest.  Old women can speak pretty plainly, and I can trust you to
+be discreet.  The fact is, my brother is one of the best men that ever
+breathed, and at sea he had few officers who were his equal, but on
+shore he is one of those men whom any clever, designing scoundrel could
+impose upon, and if I don't go to them and play the dragon of
+watchfulness we shall be having a foreign count without a penny, or some
+other dreadful swindler, hoodwinking him till there is another
+engagement, and poor Myra driven half-mad."
+
+"What, after such a lesson as this has been, Miss Jerrold?"
+
+"Of course.  Poor Mark will think the best thing for Myra to do will be
+to marry, so as to get rid of the ambiguous position in which she is
+placed.  Wife to a convict serving his time.  Poor child, it gives me a
+shudder every time I think of it.  There, I will not think of it any
+more.  I've made my mind up, and I shall go."
+
+"I would," said Guest eagerly.
+
+"Eh?  And pray why, sir?" cried the old lady sharply.
+
+"I thought it would be better," said Guest confusedly.
+
+"For someone we know, eh?  No, no, sir.  That's all over now.  Some
+people had better treat their lives as schoolboys do their slates:
+sponge them neatly, make them clean, and begin all over again."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
+
+"I SHALL HAVE TO GO."
+
+A year passed rapidly away, during which time Guest's visits were pretty
+constant to Benchers' Inn, or to that institution where the new curator
+seemed to have thrown himself with so much spirit into his work that
+Guest often came to the conclusion that he must have treated his past
+after the fashion suggested by the admiral's sister.  For there were no
+friendly confidences, and it was only a supposition that Stratton might
+be well informed as to the doings of the family abroad.
+
+At last one morning, after being expectant and on thorns for weeks,
+Guest made his way to Bayswater, sending the cabman by a circuitous
+route, so as to pass through Bourne Square.
+
+The family had not returned, but there were painters at work; and
+excited by this, he rang at Miss Jerrold's, was shown up, and as soon as
+he had shaken hands the old lady tightened her lips and shook her head
+at him.
+
+"All my good advice thrown away, boy," she said.  "Now no deceit; you've
+heard news?"
+
+"Indeed, no," he cried.  "I only came through the square."
+
+"On purpose?"
+
+"Well, yes, and saw that there were men at work painting."
+
+"Pooh!" ejaculated Miss Jerrold.  "That may mean my brother is going to
+let the house."
+
+"But Sir Mark is not going to let the house, Miss Jerrold?"
+
+"Of course not.  Yes; you are right: they will be back in about a week."
+
+"In a week?" cried Guest joyously.
+
+"Yes.  I wanted to see you, though.  How about your friend, Mr
+Stratton: he has forgotten all that mad nonsense, I suppose?"
+
+Guest was silent for a few moments while the old lady looked at him
+inquiringly.
+
+"You do not know Malcolm Stratton as I do," he said sadly.  "He has
+never mentioned Miss Myra Jerrold's name--"
+
+"Mrs Dale's or Barron's," said the lady sternly, but Guest shook his
+head.
+
+"Since the wedding day, but if I know anything of my friend she has
+never since been out of his thoughts."
+
+The tears started to Miss Jerrold's eyes.
+
+"Poor boy," she said sadly.  "But he must not think of her.  My brother
+had certain thoughts about getting the marriage cancelled, but Myra will
+not hear of it."
+
+"Surely she does not care for this man?"
+
+"I don't know, my dear boy.  She is a mystery to me.  I tried to talk to
+her several times when I was near, but she closed my lips at once.  I am
+nobody now.  I can pretty well manage her father, but--who in the world
+can this be?" she cried hastily.  "I'm not at home."
+
+She rose to ring the bell, but there were steps already on the stairs,
+and the servant, looking a little startled, opened the door.
+
+"Mr Stratton, ma'am.  He says--"
+
+Stratton was already at the door, looking pale, but with a red spot
+burning in each cheek.
+
+"You here, Guest!" he said excitedly.  "Miss Jerrold, pray ask your
+niece to see me, if only for a minute."
+
+"My niece, Mr Stratton," said the old lady coldly, "is in Paris."
+
+"No, no," he cried.  "They reached Charing Cross not half an hour ago."
+
+"Stratton, old man," whispered Guest, "for goodness sake, contain
+yourself.  Indeed they are not here."
+
+"Hah!" cried Stratton excitedly as a cab drew up to the door; and he
+grasped how he had, in his excitement, outstripped with a fast hansom
+the slow four-wheeled cab; and without giving aunt or friend another
+thought he dashed downstairs and out to the cab door.
+
+Myra was looking eagerly up at the house as the front door opened, and
+Edie heard her give a hoarse gasp as she shrank back into the corner of
+the seat with her face convulsed by a spasm at the unexpected sight of
+Stratton.
+
+It was only momentary.  By the time he reached the cab door, flung it
+open, and held out his hand, she had drawn herself up, and it was a
+calm, dignified, graceful woman of the world who gave the trembling man
+her hand to help her to alight.
+
+"Ah, Mr Stratton," she said, and her voice thrilled him, "I did not
+expect to see you here.  I hope you have quite recovered from your
+illness.  Thanks.  Mr Guest too.  Yes, you may take my wrappers.  Ah,
+there is aunt.  Aunt dear, we have taken you quite by storm.  Papa had
+letters yesterday which he said must be attended to personally at once.
+Can you take us in, or must we go to an hotel?"
+
+This last in the hall, to which, trembling at the meeting, Aunt Rebecca
+had come down to embrace her nieces.
+
+"Yes, yes, my dear; come in.  So glad--so very glad.  Mr Guest, would
+you mind--the cabman?"
+
+She handed the young man her purse, but Myra checked her.
+
+"No, no, aunt dear; papa did see to that.  So kind of you to have old
+friends here as a surprise."
+
+"No, no, my dear, an accident; and--and--they were just going away."
+
+"Yes," said Stratton in a strange voice as he held out his hand and
+gazed with agonised eyes wistfully in those which looked so calmly in
+his; "we were just going--Miss Jerrold."
+
+"Mrs Barron, Mr Stratton," said Myra quietly, with just a suspicion of
+reproach in her voice, as she gave him her hand.  "Papa was talking
+about you the other day.  I am sure he will be glad to see old friends
+again."
+
+She turned from him and shook hands with Guest, while Edie, with tears
+in her eyes, approached Stratton.
+
+"So--to see you again, Mr Stratton," she whispered, with the "glad"
+inaudible, but it was of no consequence, being quite out of place.
+
+He shook hands with her mechanically, but he did not seem to see her or
+hear her words, and she caught Guest's arm.
+
+"Get him away," she whispered.  "It was madness.  Pray go, for
+everyone's sake."
+
+Guest nodded, took his friend's arm, and the pair walked slowly away in
+silence till Stratton uttered a low, strange laugh, and as Guest met his
+wild eyes:
+
+"No, old fellow," he said quietly.  "I am not going mad--unless it was
+madness to obey the promptings of my poor, weak nature.  Better come
+with me to my rooms, for something seems to keep on asking me if life is
+not all one great mistake."
+
+Meanwhile at Miss Jerrold's house, the moment the door was closed, Myra
+had caught wildly at her cousin's hand.
+
+"Quick!" she cried in a hoarse whisper, "take me to our room," and with
+wild energy she hurried her cousin upstairs to close and lock the door
+before she gave vent to the wild, hysterical burst of agony that was
+struggling for exit.
+
+"So cruel--so heartless," she sobbed as she paced the floor, wringing
+her hands and rejecting every attempt at consolation on her cousin's
+part.  "He must have known.  Oh, it's maddening."
+
+"Myra, be calm, be calm."
+
+"Calm!" cried Myra wildly, "it is not possible.  Do you think me made of
+stone instead of flesh and blood like yourself?  You--my father--my
+aunt--all treat me as if I were a child whom a word or two will set
+free.  I tell you again I am that man's wife.  In my weakness and folly,
+blind to what I called my duty, I went headlong into that gulf of
+despair.  I swore before the altar to be his wife till death should us
+part.  It is my fate, and there can be no change."
+
+"But Myra--dear cousin!"
+
+"I tell you, Edie, there is not an hour passes without my seeing him
+once more before me holding my hand, with his eyes telling me that I am
+his wife, and," she cried passionately as a low tapping was heard at the
+door, "I am waiting for the day when he will be released and come,
+wherever I may be, to claim me and bid me follow him, whatever may be
+his future.  And I shall have to go--I shall have to go."
+
+"Myra," whispered Edie, throwing her arms about her cousin's neck,
+"hush, pray!  Pray hush!  Auntie is at the door; she must not hear you
+talk like this.  These terrible fits are only for me to hear; my own
+sister, pray, pray be calm."
+
+Her touch, her kisses, had the desired effect; and as the tapping at the
+door was resumed, Myra sank down sobbing on a chair, and buried her
+flushed face in Edie's breast.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
+
+BREAKING THE CAGE.
+
+Night at The Foreland--and a dark night; the moon not due for hours, and
+when she rose not likely to be seen for the heavy clouds which blotted
+out the stars.  Lights were out in the great building, which stood up by
+day gloomy, many-windowed, and forbidding on the huge promontory,
+crossed by wall and works, and with sentries between the convict
+establishment and the mainland.  The other three sides had the waves,
+which washed the nearly perpendicular precipices, for warders, and it
+was only here and there that an active man well acquainted with the
+cliffs could descend to the sea, and such an acquaintanceship was not
+likely to be made by the wretched men marched out, fettered and guarded,
+to the great quarries day after day, and then carefully watched back to
+their cells.
+
+At times the sentinel duty outside the building could easily be relaxed
+on the sea side, for the billows came thundering in, smiting the
+polished rocks and flying high in air with a deafening din; but on a
+calm, warm, dark night, when it was possible for a boat to approach
+close in, a stricter watch was kept, lest one of the more hardened
+prisoners should contrive to elude the vigilance within the buildings
+and make a desperate effort to win his freedom.
+
+But, as a rule, attempts at evasion were made when the men were marched
+out to the quarries, when a dash would be made during a sea fog, or a
+convict would crawl into some hollow among the freshly hewn stones, and
+lie there, hoping not to be missed till he had made good his escape.
+
+On this particular night a young member of the warder guard stood, rifle
+on shoulder, looking out to sea from the mere shelf of level rock near
+the top of the cliff.
+
+A great steamer was making her way down channel, and her lights shone
+like stars away on the black waters.
+
+"West Indy or South America; and a Dutch boat, I should say," muttered
+the sentry; and he turned his eyes to where, well up under the shelter
+of the great promontory, the lights of several vessels showed where they
+lay at anchor.
+
+"This is a miserable dog's life," muttered the man, "and I get precious
+sick of it, but I think I'd rather be here than there.  One can feel
+bottom and be safe--sailors can't.  That one nighest in is the little
+man-o'-war, I suppose, and yon's the big one.  How dark it is!"
+
+He stood there trying to pierce the blackness, out of which the anchor
+lights of the ships stood like stars, but he could see nothing save a
+faint bluish-greeny gleam now and then far below, where the
+phosphorescence of the sea washed gently, like so much luminous oil,
+over the bases of the cliffs and played among the masses of seaweed
+lying awash.
+
+"How unked the sea is of a dark night.  Fancy going sailing right away
+yonder, not knowing what you may hit upon next.  Shore's good enough for
+me, even if it's being at Foreland convict prison, with a day out now
+and then."
+
+He turned his face shoreward, looking across the bay, dotted with faint
+lights, to where the red lamps of the harbour shone out with their lurid
+glow.
+
+"That's better," he said as he followed the curve of the shore, with the
+faint golden gleam sent up by the gas lamps which dotted the bow like so
+many bright beads strung along the shore, on and on by the line of
+houses facing the sea front, till they ran out for a short distance to
+sea, and ended in quite a cluster, out of which flashed one with a
+bluish glare, whose rays cut the darkness, for it was the electric light
+at the end of the pier.
+
+"Band's playing," said the man, listening intently; but the distance
+across the curve to the town pier was too great, and he could make out
+nothing but a stray note of a cornet now and then.
+
+"Come, play up louder, old man; can't hear.  Nothing like a bit of music
+now and then.  That's one good in being a soldier: you do have a band,
+while we poor beggars have to carry a rifle without.  But there, a man
+can drop this when he likes, and a soldier can't."
+
+He took a turn or two up and down, and stopped again to look up the
+steep cliff slope running high above him from the shelf on which his
+duty lay, this being over one of the spots where it would be possible
+for a daring cragsman to get down to the sea.
+
+"Shouldn't mind a glass of beer," he thought.  "Salt in the air, I
+suppose.  Well, I can get that by and by.  Lord, what's a fellow got to
+grumble about?  How would it be to do one's bit inside!  Some of 'em
+pays pretty dear for their little games, and one can't help feeling
+sorry for one now and then.  Bah! lot's of 'em are best there.  They'd
+think no more of coming behind me in the dark and chucking me into the
+sea than kissing their hands.  Ugh!" he ejaculated, with a shudder, as
+he gripped his piece more tightly, and gave a sharp glance; round and up
+above him at the black crags.  "What a fool I am to think of such
+things, only a chap can't help it in such a lonesome place.  Well, one
+side is safe," he muttered, with a half laugh.  "So are the others,
+stupid poor devils!  Not much chance for any of them coming out for a
+quiet pipe to-night."
+
+A faint note or two from the distant band on the pier, floated to the
+warder, and he went on musing:
+
+"Now, I dessay if I was over yonder having a smoke and listening to that
+music I should think nothing of it, and be for getting back somewhere to
+have a bit o' supper; but because I'm here and can't get near it every
+tootle of that old cornet sounds 'eavenly; and the lights seem grand.
+It was just the same down at home; there was our big old apple tree, the
+Gennet-Moyle, as I could get up when I liked, or knock as many down as I
+pleased with mother's clothes props--good apples they was, too; but they
+wouldn't do--one always wanted to get over Thompson's walls to smug
+those old hard baking pears, which was like nibbling the knobs off the
+top of the bedposts."
+
+He laughed until his shoulders shook.
+
+"Poor old Thompson!" he said half aloud.  "Said he'd have some of us put
+in prison for stealing.  Wonder whether some of these poor beggars began
+that way and then went on.  Humph! maybe.  Well, they should have known
+better."
+
+He continued his march up and down for a while, and then stopped once
+more, grounded his piece, and stood there quite invisible to anyone a
+few yards away.  He went on thinking about the town at the head of the
+bay, and the music, and of how time was going; and then his thoughts
+went back to the great body of dangerous criminals shut up in the huge,
+grim buildings, and of how much depended on the care and diligence of
+those in charge--a mere handful compared to those they guarded.
+
+"Only we've got the law on our side and they haven't," he thought; and
+as the thought ran through his brain he felt the blood pulsate sharply
+and there was a heavy throb at his heart, for there was a peculiar sound
+away to his right, high up the steep slope of the cliff, as if a stone
+had been dislodged and had slipped down a few yards before stopping in a
+cleft.  He stood listening intently, but the sound was not repeated--all
+was still as death; but the man's pulses had been stirred, and his heart
+beat in a manner that was painful.
+
+It was not that he was particularly wanting in courage, but, shut in
+there by the darkness, it was impossible to keep back the thought that a
+desperate man who had stolen out or hidden might be lurking close by
+ready to spring upon him in an unguarded moment, drive him off the cliff
+shelf which formed his beat, and all would be over in an instant.  For a
+fall there meant death by drowning or the fearful crash on to the rocks
+below.
+
+"They shan't take me unawares," he thought, and then he hesitated as to
+whether he should give the alarm by firing his piece.
+
+In an instant he had raised it and his finger was on the trigger, but he
+did not make its flash cut the darkness for a moment and its report run
+re-echoing along the cliffs.
+
+"What for?" he said to himself; "bring the fellows here to laugh at me
+because I heard a rabbit on the move.  I should never hear the last of
+it."
+
+He again grounded his piece, but very softly, and stood with his back to
+the sea, straining his eyes in the direction from whence the sound had
+come, but the stones that towered up were all blurred together into one
+black mass, and though he fancied several times over that he could make
+out the figure of a man half-hidden by some projection, he was fain to
+confess directly after that it was all fancy.
+
+"But fancy or not," he said to himself, "I don't mean to be taken on the
+grand hop,"--and he did not stir from his position where he stood on the
+very edge of the cliff shelf, but kept on glancing to right and left
+along the stone path, and sweeping the slope in front.
+
+Ten minutes passed like this--ten long-drawn intervals of time--and then
+the man threw up his rifle and stood ready, fully expecting an attack,
+certain now that there had been good reason for the dislodgement of the
+stone.  For from high up on the top of one of the ranges of prison
+buildings a sound rang out which sent a thrill through the watcher's
+nerves.
+
+It was the alarm bell, which might mean the escape of prisoners or an
+attack from a deadly enemy; but it could not be the latter, for there
+was no reflection of a fire.
+
+"Now for it!" muttered the man, with his finger on the trigger, prepared
+for the rush of a man or men, and he thought over the formula he must
+utter before he fired.
+
+"I don't want to hurt anybody," he said softly, "but no one shall drive
+me over without getting something first.  It's that Ratcliff Highway
+chap at his games again.  I wish they'd hang him or send him somewhere
+else."
+
+And he thought of a warder who had been disabled for life, and another
+who was absent twelve months, both from injuries inflicted by a savage
+brute whom all the men feared.
+
+Another instant and all doubts were at an end, for there was a bright
+flash, and directly after the heavy, reverberating roar of a gun.
+
+"Sharp's the word!" said the man softly as, taught by training, his
+fingers involuntarily drew forth aloud clicking from the lock of the
+piece he held; and as he stood there, breathing hard, every nerve and
+muscle was on the strain, for he could hear steps coming rapidly in his
+direction, and they must pass him--there was no other way; and it meant
+a desperate attack made by men armed with hammers and bars, perhaps only
+stones, and on the warder's part duty and self defence.
+
+"Someone's number crossed out," he muttered fiercely, for there was no
+feeling of dread now.
+
+Then a change came over him as, with an intense feeling of satisfaction,
+he grasped the fact that the measured beat of feet was that of their
+more disciplined men.
+
+He challenged, and there was the reassuring response.
+
+"Anyone been this way?" cried a sergeant breathlessly as he halted four
+men.
+
+"No."
+
+"Three of 'em got out and half killed two warders.  They came along
+here, we think."
+
+"Nobody been this way."
+
+"Keep a sharp lookout, then.  We're going on.  Challenge, of course, but
+if they don't stand let them have it.  They won't spare you.  Ready,
+there; we'll go on to the next post, and come back directly."
+
+"Stop!" said the sentry huskily; "I thought I heard a stone roll down
+from up yonder a few minutes ago."
+
+"They are there, then," cried the sergeant, "safe enough.  Now, then,"
+he shouted; "the game's up, my lads.  Give in.  No stones, or I'll give
+orders to fire.  Ready, there; present!"
+
+There was a dead silence.
+
+"Nobody could get over the cliff here," growled one of the men.
+"Monkeys might, perhaps."
+
+"Silence!" cried the sergeant.  "They must be there.  Now, then, will
+you come down, or are we to pick you off?"
+
+"Hush!  What's that?"
+
+The unmistakable rattling of stones and a scrambling sound as if someone
+had slipped.
+
+"Hah! that's good enough.  Now, then, is it surrender?"
+
+Silence again, and the darkness in front blacker than ever.
+
+"You will have it, then," cried the sergeant.  "One and four, a dozen
+paces right and left."
+
+The evolution was performed, and then with a man on each side of him the
+sergeant once more shouted to the convicts to give in.
+
+"Hi, look out!" roared one of the warders.
+
+"In the queen's name, surrend--"
+
+A dull, heavy blow, and a groan were heard almost together, cutting
+short the sergeant's challenge, for a heavy piece of rock struck him
+full in the face, while a couple more blocks whizzed by the others, to
+fall heavily far below where they stood.  Simultaneously three dark
+figures bounded on to the edge and made at the little group.
+
+The attack was so sudden and direful in its results that the warders
+gave way right and left, while the convicts stooped, literally glided
+over the edge of the path, and began to descend the horribly steep
+cliff.
+
+"Don't keep together," cried a hoarse voice from below.  "Every man for
+himself now."
+
+"Fire!" shouted one of the warders; and almost together three rifles
+flashed out their contents, followed by a derisive laugh.
+
+Then the warder who had been ordered off to the right fired, and as the
+shot echoed along the cliff there was a terrible cry, followed by a rush
+as of something falling.
+
+"Now, then, surrender!" cried one of the warders, who was reloading
+rapidly, just as rapid steps were heard coming along the path.
+
+"Where are they?" shouted an authoritative voice as ten or a dozen more
+men were now halted on the shelf-like path.
+
+"Right below here, sir.  One of 'em down."
+
+"Halt, there!  Do you hear, men?  Surrender at once; you can't escape."
+
+No reply, but those above could hear the scuffling noise of those
+descending and the rattle of a heavy stone, followed by a dull plunge.
+
+"Your blood be on your own heads, then," said the officer who had now
+come up.  "Once more: in the queen's name, surrender!"
+
+No answer, but the hurried rustle of the descending fugitives.
+
+Sharp orders were given, and then came the fatal word:
+
+"Fire!"
+
+Several rifles rattled out their deadly challenge now, and as the
+warders peered over into the darkness, up through the heavy smoke came a
+peculiar snarl, more like the cry of a savage beast than the utterance
+of a human throat, while directly after, sending a thrill of horror
+through the men who were looking down, there was the sound of the heavy
+plunge as of something falling from a great height into the sea.
+
+Then silence, save that the heavy breathing of the warders was audible
+as they listened for the cry, "Help!" which they expected to hear from
+the water when the wounded man rose to the surface, not one of the guard
+daring in his own mind to think upon either of the shots fired as being
+fatal.
+
+At that moment there was a flash from off the sea a quarter of a mile
+away, and a few moments later another glare, both sending a brilliant
+path of light across the smooth water.  And now, plainly seen in the
+midst of a bluish halo on the black night, there stood out the rigging
+and hull of a ship, with figures moving here and there; two boats were
+lowered down, and directly after the water flashed and sparkled as oars
+were dipped, and the man-of-war cutters, with their armed crews, were
+rowed in toward the rocks.
+
+By this time there were fresh arrivals on the cliff path, the firing
+having drawn there men bearing lanterns, and the officer in charge
+shouted:
+
+"Got them?"
+
+"No, sir," said the first officer respectfully.  "Sergeant Liss is down
+badly hurt with a stone, and Raddon's shoulder is hurt."
+
+"But the prisoners, man?" cried the newcomer, evidently one high in
+authority.
+
+"I'm afraid, sir--"
+
+"The prisoners?"
+
+"Below here somewhere, sir--two of them."
+
+"Yes, and the other?"
+
+"We were obliged to fire, sir, and there was a cry, and we heard one
+fall into the sea."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
+
+FREE!
+
+It was a slim, grey-haired, military looking man who listened to these
+words with the light of one of the lanterns full upon his face, which
+contracted into a heavy frown.
+
+"You challenged them--warned them well?"
+
+"Again and again, sir.  It was not until they were right down here,
+after the sergeant had been hurt, that we fired."
+
+The governor, for he it was, shrugged his shoulders and gave his orders.
+Then four of the most active of the warders began to descend, lanterns
+in hand, each looking like a spark on the face of the black rock.
+
+The task was so perilous that at the end of a few minutes the governor
+ordered the men to halt, while ropes were fetched, and in due time these
+were brought and secured to the climbers' waists, the ropes being paid
+out by the warders on the shelf, the light of the lanterns being now
+supplemented by the blue lights held in the sterns of the fast
+approaching cutters.
+
+"Ahoy, there, ashore!" was shouted by the officer in one of the boats;
+"men escaping?"
+
+"Yes; three," was shouted back.  "Row to and fro, and see if you can
+make out a man swimming."
+
+"Right!  Swimming, indeed!  Where's he to swim to?" grumbled the
+officer; and at a word then the boats separated, and were rowed slowly
+along at a short distance from the shore.
+
+Then came a hall from below, and a man bearing one lantern began to
+climb sidewise to where another had become stationary.
+
+"Well?" from the shelf.
+
+"One of 'em, sir."
+
+"Mind.  Wait for help and look out for treachery."
+
+"He won't show no treachery," muttered the warder, holding the lantern
+over a ghastly face contorted by agony.  "Well, mate, I'd give in now."
+
+"Yes," said the man with a groan.  "I'm sick as a dog.  Hold me.  I
+shall go into the sea.  Get me back.  The doctor."
+
+He said no more.  His grasp of the rock to which he clung relaxed, and
+he began to slide down sidewise till the warder thrust his leg beneath
+him and grasped one arm.
+
+"Look sharp!" he said to his companion.  "Set the lantern down, and mine
+too."
+
+"Can you hold him?"
+
+"Yes; all right.  Now untie the rope from round me, and make it fast
+under his arms."
+
+"Where's he hurt?" said the second warder.
+
+"Leg, I think.  His things are all wet with blood.  Look sharp."
+
+The knots were untied, and as the insensible, wounded man was held up,
+the rope was made fast under his arms, and at the word, the unfortunate
+wretch was carefully hauled up.
+
+But before he was half-way to the shelf there was a second hail from
+close down the water side.
+
+"Here's another of 'em, sir."
+
+"Hurt?"
+
+"Yes, sir, or else shamming."
+
+"Wait till another man gets down to you," cried the governor.  "Be
+careful!"
+
+The man who had given up his rope was not far above the spot where the
+second convict lay; and he managed to lower himself down, holding his
+lantern the while in his teeth, and soon after adding its light to that
+of the other warder's.
+
+"Think he's shamming?" asked the man who had found him.
+
+The fresh comer stooped down without hesitation, in spite of the warning
+from above; and after looking fixedly in the convict's closely shaven
+face, passed his hand here and there about the prison clothes.
+
+"Don't feel nothing," he said, "but this isn't shamming.  Here, hold up,
+my lad.  Where are you hurt?"
+
+There was no reply, and the cleanly cut, aristocratic features of the
+man looked very stony and fixed.
+
+"I don't think he's shamming, mate," whispered the warder, "but cover
+him with your piece; I don't want to be hurt."
+
+It was an awkward place to use a rifle, but the warder addressed altered
+his position a little, and brought the muzzle of his piece to bear on
+the convict's breast.
+
+"Well, you two below there," shouted the governor.  "What do you make
+out?"
+
+"One moment, sir.  Ugh!  No shamming here, mate.  Feel his head."
+
+"Take your word for it," said the other gruffly.
+
+"Let's have your rope, then, and send him up."
+
+"Badly hurt?" cried the governor.
+
+"Very, sir," shouted the warder who was manipulating the rope.  "Wait a
+minute," he continued, and, stripping off his tunic, he threw it over
+the injured man's head, and passed the sleeves under the rope about his
+chest.
+
+"Mind what you're doing, or he'll slip away."
+
+"He'll slip away if I do mind," muttered the warder.  "Here, steady,
+mate; I only wanted to keep the rocks from chafing you."
+
+For the convict had suddenly torn at the tunic; but his hands dropped
+again directly, word was given to haul gently, and holding on by either
+side of the loop about the prisoner's breast, the warders climbed as the
+rope was hauled, and kept the unfortunate man's head from the rock.
+
+This last was a slower process than the sending up of the first
+prisoner, but the rest of the warders were searching about still,
+especially down close to the edge of the sea, in the expectation of
+seeing the third man hiding among the rocks half covered with the long
+strands of the slimy fucus that fringed the tide-washed shore.  And all
+the while the two boats made the water glisten, and the blue lights
+threw up the face of the rock so clearly that, unless he had found some
+deep, dark, cavernous niche, there was but little chance for an escaping
+convict to cling anywhere there unseen.
+
+By the time the second man was taken to the shelf a fresh arrival was
+upon the scene in the person of the jail surgeon, who, fresh from
+attending sergeant and warder, made a rapid examination of the first
+prisoner, and then began to open a case by the light of one of the
+lanterns.
+
+"Dangerous?" said the governor sharply.
+
+"No.  Bullet clean through one thigh and the other regularly ploughed.
+Send for stretchers."
+
+He knelt down as he spoke, and with the convict groaning piteously he
+rapidly plugged one of his wounds, and bandaged both.
+
+"Now the other," he said; and he turned to the second patient, who was
+lying, talking quickly, a few yards away.
+
+Just then the governor hailed the men below.
+
+"You must find him, my lads," he cried.  "Who heard him plunge in?"
+
+"I did, sir," came back.
+
+"Well, then, he is ashore again somewhere, holding on by the rocks; no
+man would swim out to sea with such a tide on.  He would be carried
+right away.  Keep a good lookout, and if he's wise he will surrender.
+Well, doctor, this one much hurt?"
+
+"Yes, horribly.  Head crushed."
+
+"Not by a bullet?"
+
+"No: fall.  How long are those stretchers going to be?"
+
+"Some distance for the men to go, doctor," said the governor quickly.
+"You forget they were being used for the sergeant and the man."
+
+"Poor fellows! yes," said the doctor, rapidly continuing his
+manipulations; "there, that is all I can do."
+
+He rose from his knee and stood looking out at the boats below turning
+the water into silvery blue as port fire after port fire was burned,
+while others lit up the man-of-war from which the boats had come.
+
+"I'm glad it was not a bullet," said the governor quietly, as his men
+below searched the rocks and shouted--now to their companions who paid
+out the rope, now answered hails from the boats.
+
+"Yes; one man's enough to shoot a night," said the surgeon grimly.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," said a warder, coming up, lantern in hand, and
+saluting.
+
+"Yes; what is it?"
+
+"I don't think you'll find the other poor chap, sir."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Blades, who was one of the men here first, and tired, says there was a
+shriek just before they heard the splash in the water."
+
+"Tut--tut--tut!" ejaculated the governor.  "Poor wretch!  Where is
+Blades?"
+
+"Here, sir," said a man who was holding one of the ropes.
+
+"Why didn't you say this before, man?"
+
+"Didn't like to, sir; and besides, I thought the others knew."
+
+"One does not seem to have been enough," whispered the surgeon.
+"Aynsley, I did not know your men could shoot so well.  Hah! the
+stretchers."
+
+For lanterns were seen approaching, and directly after a party came up
+with the ambulance apparatus.  The two convicts were lifted on and borne
+off along the path traversed only a short time before by their victims--
+one of them groaning piteously; the other lying silent and calm, gazing
+straight up at the black darkness, while his lips moved slightly from
+time to time.
+
+"Most unfortunate! most unfortunate!" muttered the governor as soon as
+he was left alone with his subordinates.  "Poor, blind fools! how they
+rush upon their fate!  Well," he shouted, "see him?"
+
+"No, sir.  Boats are coming back, sir."
+
+This was plain enough, and a few minutes later both rowed up in close
+with fresh blue lights illuminating the scene.
+
+"Ahoy!  Who's up yonder?" shouted a naval officer.
+
+"I am," cried the governor.
+
+"Oh, you, Sir William!  Well, sir, I'll keep my men on if you like, but
+no swimmer could have got to shore from hereabouts.  If there is a man
+living he must be somewhere on these rocks."
+
+"My men say they have searched thoroughly," said the governor.  "Every
+ledge and crack is well known.  There can be no one here."
+
+"Shall we patrol the place a little longer?"
+
+The governor was silent for a few moments, and then, feeling that all
+possible had been done, he gave the word for the search to be given up,
+but sent half a dozen men to patrol the road leading to the mainland,
+feeling all the while that it was a hopeless task.
+
+By this time the last man had climbed up from the dangerous cliff side,
+the ropes were coiled, and the party marched off toward the prison--the
+governor last--leaving the sentinel warder to his beat with the company
+of another man.
+
+These two stood in silence till the footsteps had died out on the rocky
+path and the last blue light had ceased to send golden drops into the
+hissing water as the boats made for the man-of-war.
+
+"Black night's work this, Jem," said the companion sentry.  "Two of 'em
+gone and three wounded."
+
+"No, no; not so bad as that."
+
+"Yes, bad as that.  Yon chap on the stretcher won't see to-morrow
+morning, and that other poor chap who shrieked when we fired went into
+the water like a stone.  It was your shot did that."
+
+"Ugh!  I hope not," said the warder, with a shudder.  "Seems to me time
+I tried another way of getting my bread and cheese.  Hark!"
+
+"What at?"
+
+"That.  Someone hailed off the water.  Quite low and faint, like a man
+going down."
+
+The clouds were lifting slowly in the east, and the misty, blurred face
+of the moon began to show in the east, over the brimming water's rim.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINETEEN.
+
+ALMOST BY ACCIDENT.
+
+Time had crept on since the return of the Jerrolds, and by degrees the
+pain of the meeting between Myra and Stratton grew less, and the wound
+made that day began to heal.
+
+"I'm sorry for him," Guest would say to himself; "but I can't keep away
+because he is unhappy."
+
+So he visited at the admiral's, where he always found a warm welcome,
+but made little progress with Edie, who seemed to have grown cold.
+
+Then, too, he met the cousins at Miss Jerrold's, and it naturally came
+about that one evening, after a good deal of persuasion, Stratton became
+his companion.
+
+Myra was there that night, and once more their hands were clasped, while
+Stratton felt that it was no longer the girl into whose eyes he looked,
+but the quiet, thoughtful woman who had suffered in the struggle of
+life, and that he must banish all hope of a nearer tie than that of
+friendship.
+
+For whatever Myra may have held hidden in her secret heart she was the
+calm, self-contained friend to her aunt's guest.  Ready to sit and talk
+with him of current topics and their travels; to play or sing if asked;
+but Stratton always left the house with the feeling that unconsciously
+Myra had gravely impressed upon him the fact that she was James Barron's
+wife, and that she would never seek to rid herself of that tie.
+
+"And I must accept that position."  Stratton would say despairingly,
+after one of the meetings which followed; and then he would make a vow
+never to meet Myra again, for the penance was too painful to be borne.
+
+The result was that the very next day after making one of these vows he
+received a letter from Edie, asking him, at her uncle's wish, to dinner
+in Bourne Square.
+
+For the admiral had said to Edie, on hearing that they had met Stratton
+at her aunt's:
+
+"Let bygones be bygones.  I don't see why we should not all be friends
+again.  I always liked the boy.  He can talk well about scientific
+things without boring you.  Ask him to dinner."
+
+"Uncle wants him to come and wean poor Myra from that terrible
+business."
+
+But Edie was wrong, for after approaching his daughter several times on
+the question of the possibility of obtaining a divorce, Myra had stopped
+the admiral so decidedly that he had been ready to believe she must have
+cared for Barron after all.
+
+"First man who ever told her he loved her," the old man said to himself,
+"so, of course, she can't help feeling a kind of liking for him.  But
+suppose he comes out on ticket-of-leave, don't they call it?  And what
+if he comes here?  Bah!  I'll shoot him before he shall have her.  That
+would bring Myra to book, too.  That's a card I must play--possibility
+of his coming back.  She'll give in, then.  I must hear what a lawyer
+says."
+
+But, in his unbusinesslike way, Sir Mark did nothing.  Home was calm and
+pleasant again, and he had his little dinners, and his friends; and to
+him the existence of James Barron, alias Dale, at The Foreland became
+less and less clear.  He was buried, as it were, in a living tomb, and
+there was no need to think of him for years.
+
+Stratton came again and again for dinner, and now and then dropped in of
+an evening.  Always against his will, he told himself; but the
+attraction was strong enough to draw him there.  It was plain, too, that
+Myra's eyes brightened when he entered, but he felt that it was only to
+see her father's friend.
+
+Then came one autumn night when, after a long and busy day, Stratton
+made up his mind to go to Bourne Square, undid it, made up his mind
+again, once more undid it, and determined that he would no longer play
+the moth round the bright candle.
+
+He had dressed, and, throwing off his light coat and crush hat, he went
+out of his rooms and along the landing to Brettison's.
+
+"I'll go and talk botany," he said.  "Life is too valuable to waste upon
+a heartless woman."
+
+He knocked; no answer.  Again; no reply.
+
+"Gone out," he said.  "What shall I do?"
+
+Stratton hesitated for a few moments, and then went and fetched his hat
+and coat, descended, took a cab, and ordered the man to drive to
+Guest's, in Grey's Inn.
+
+"Better have stopped at home," muttered Stratton; "he will talk about
+nothing else but Bourne Square."  But he was wrong.  Guest was out, so
+descending into the square, and walking out into Holborn, Stratton took
+another cab.
+
+"Where to, sir?"
+
+"Bourne Square."
+
+Stratton sank back in his seat perfectly convinced that he had said
+Benchers' Inn, and he started out of a reverie when the cab stopped at
+the admiral's door.
+
+"Fate," he muttered.  "It was no doing of mine."  Andrews admitted him
+as a matter of course, and led the way to the drawing room, where he
+announced his name.
+
+Myra started from a couch, where she had been sitting alone, dreaming;
+and as Stratton advanced his pulses began to beat heavily, for never had
+the woman he idolised looked so beautiful as then.
+
+There was a faint flush in her soft, creamy cheeks, the trace of emotion
+in her heaving bosom, as she greeted him consciously; for she had been
+sitting alone, thinking of him and his proposal to her father, and the
+next minute the door had been opened, and he stood before her.
+
+"It is almost by accident that I am here," he said, in a low voice full
+of emotion, which he vainly strove to control.  "Your cousin?  The
+admiral?"
+
+"Did you not know?" said Myra in a voice as deep and tremulous as his
+own.  "Mr Guest came with tickets for the opera.  He knew my father
+liked the one played to-night--`Faust.'"
+
+"Indeed!" said Stratton huskily.
+
+"He goes for the sake of the great scene of the return of the men from
+the war.  I think he would never tire of hearing that grand march."
+
+She left the couch, conscious of a strange feeling of agitation, and,
+crossing to the piano, seated herself, and began to play softly the
+second strain in the spirit-stirring composition, gradually gliding into
+the jewel song quite unconsciously, and with trembling fingers.  Then
+she awoke to the fact that Stratton had followed her to the instrument,
+against which he leaned, with the tones thrilling his nerves, tones set
+vibrating by the touch of hands that he would have given worlds to clasp
+in his own, while he poured forth the words struggling for exit.
+
+"It is fate," he said to himself, as he stood there gazing down at the
+beautiful head with its glossy hair, the curve of the creamy neck, and
+the arms and hands whiter than the ivory over which they strayed.
+
+So sudden--so wondrous.  The only thing in his thoughts had been that he
+might be near her for a time, and hear her words, while now they were
+alone in the soft, dim light of the drawing room, and the touch of her
+fingers on those keys sent that dreamy, sensuous, glorious music
+thrilling through every fibre of his body.  Friend?  How could he be
+friend?  He loved her passionately, and, cold as she might ever be,
+however she might trample upon his feelings, she must always be the same
+to him--his ideal--his love--the only woman in the world who could ever
+stir his pulses.
+
+And so silent now--so beautiful?  If she had spoken in her customary
+formal, friendly way, it would have broken the spell.  But she could
+not.  The chain was as fast round her at that moment, though she longed
+to speak.
+
+She could not, for she knew how he loved her; how his touch stirred each
+pulse; that this man was all in all to her--the one she loved, and she
+could not turn and flee.
+
+At last, by a tremendous effort, she raised her eyes to his to speak
+indifferently and break through this horrible feeling of dread and
+lassitude, but as their eyes met, her hands dropped from the keys, as,
+with a passionate cry, he took a step forward, caught her to his breast,
+and she lay for the moment trembling there, and felt his lips pressed to
+her in a wild, passionate kiss.
+
+"Myra!" he panted; "all that must be as a dream.  You are not his.  It
+is impossible.  I love you--my own! my own!"
+
+His words thrilled her, but their import roused in her as well those
+terrible thoughts of the tie which bound her; and, with a cry of anger
+and despair, she thrust him away.
+
+"Go!" she cried; "it is an insult.  You must be mad."
+
+Then, with the calm majesty of an injured woman proud of her honour and
+her state, she said coldly, as she pointed to the door:
+
+"Mr Stratton, you have taken a cruel advantage of my loneliness here.
+I am Mr Barron's wife.  Go, sir.  We are friends no longer and can
+never meet again."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY.
+
+THE MORNING PAPER.
+
+No one by any stretch of the imagination could have called the admiral a
+good reader.  In fact, a person might very well have been considered to
+be strictly within the limits of truth if he had declared the old
+officer to be the worst reader he ever heard.  But so it was, from the
+crookedness of human nature, that he always made a point of reading
+every piece of news in the paper which he considered interesting, aloud,
+for the benefit of those with him at the breakfast table.
+
+Matters happen strangely quite as frequently as they go on in the
+regular groove of routine, and hence it happened, one morning at
+breakfast, that is to say, on the morning after the tragedy at the
+convict prison, that Sir Mark put on his gold spectacles as soon as he
+had finished his eggs and bacon and one cup of coffee, and, taking the
+freshly aired paper, opened it with a good deal of rustling noise, and
+coughed.
+
+Edie looked across at her cousin with a mischievous smile, but Myra was
+gazing thoughtfully before her, and the glance missed its mark.
+
+"Hum! ha!" growled Sir Mark.  "`London, South, and Channel.  Same as
+number three.'  Confound number three!  Who wants to refer to that?  Oh,
+here we are: `Light winds, shifting to east.  Fine generally.'
+Climate's improving, girls.  More coffee, Myra.  Pass my cup, Edie,
+dear."
+
+He skimmed over the summary, and then turned to the police cases, found
+nothing particular, and went on to the sessions, stopping to refresh
+himself from time to time, while Edie wondered what her cousin's
+thoughts might be.
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed the admiral suddenly; "how singular!  I must read
+you this, girls.  Here's another forgery of foreign banknotes."
+
+The click of Myra's teacup as she suddenly set it down made the admiral
+drop the paper and read in his child's blank face the terrible slip he
+had made.
+
+"O Myra, my darling!" he cried apologetically; "I am so sorry;" and he
+turned to Edie, who looked daggers.
+
+"It is nothing, papa," said Myra coldly, as she tried hard to master her
+emotion.
+
+"But it is something, my dear.  I wouldn't have said a word only I
+caught sight of Percy Guest's name as junior for the defence."
+
+It was Edie's turn now to look startled, and Sir Mark hurriedly fixed
+upon her to become the scapegoat for his awkward allusion, and divert
+Myra's attention.
+
+"Can't congratulate the prisoner upon his counsel," he said.  "The man's
+too young and inexperienced.  Only the other day a mere student.  It's
+like putting a midshipman as second in command of an ironclad."
+
+Edie's eyes now seemed to dart flames, and she looked up boldly at her
+uncle.
+
+"Oh, yes," he said, "I mean it.  Very nice fellow, Percy Guest, in a
+social way, but I should be sorry to trust an important case with him.
+Here, I'll read it, and see what it's all about.  No; never mind, I know
+you girls don't care about law."
+
+The morning meal had been commenced cheerfully.  There was sunshine
+without and at the table, Edie had thought how bright and well her
+cousin looked, and augured pleasant times of the future.
+
+"If she could only feel herself free," was her constant thought when
+Myra gave way to some fit of despondency.
+
+"I'm sure that she loves Malcolm Stratton, and what is the good of a
+stupid old law if all it does is to make people uncomfortable.  I wish I
+knew the Archbishop of Canterbury or the judge of the Court of Divorce,
+or whoever it is settles those things.  I'd soon make them see matters
+in a different light.  Poor Myra would be obedient then, and there'd be
+an end of all this moping.  I believe she delights in making herself
+miserable."
+
+It was just when Edie had reached this point, and she was stirring her
+tea, and thinking how easily she could settle matters if she were at the
+head of affairs, so as to make everybody happy, herself included, when
+her uncle made his malapropos remarks.
+
+There was no more sunshine in the dining room after that.  Myra looked
+cold and pale, the admiral was uncomfortable behind the paper, in which
+he enveloped himself as in a cloud, from which came a hand at intervals
+to feel about the table in an absurd way for toast or his coffee cup,
+which was twice over nearly overturned.
+
+Then he became visible for a moment or two as he turned the paper, but
+it closed him in again, and from behind it there came, now and then, a
+fidgeting nervous cough, which was as annoying to the utterer as to
+those who listened.
+
+"Going out to-day, girls?" asked Sir Mark at last, but without removing
+the paper.
+
+"Yes, uncle," said Edie sharply, for her cousin had given her an
+imploring look, and the girl could see that Myra was greatly agitated
+still; "the carriage is coming round at two.  Shall we drop you at the
+club?"
+
+"Great Heavens!" ejaculated the old man in a tone which startled both
+his hearers, and as if expectant from some premonition, Myra thrust back
+her chair, and sat gazing at the paper wildly.
+
+"What is it, uncle?" cried Edie.
+
+"Eh?  Oh, nothing, my dear," said Sir Mark confusedly, as he rustled the
+paper and hurriedly turned it.  "More horrors.  These editors seem to
+revel in them, or the public do.  So shocking; no sooner is one at an
+end, than another begins."
+
+He had screened his face again as quickly as he could, for he was a
+miserable dissembler, and Edie and Myra exchanged glances.  Then, rising
+slowly with her hand pressed to her breast, Myra made as if she would go
+to the other side of the table, but her strength failed her, and as her
+father cleared his throat with a sonorous cough, she clung to the edge,
+crumpling up the white cloth in her damp fingers.
+
+Edie rose too, but throwing up her head, Myra motioned her back
+imperiously, and stood for a few moments with her lips parted and eyes
+dilated, gazing at the paper, as if devouring its contents, while from
+behind it came the admiral's voice with forced carelessness.
+
+"For my part," he said, with a clumsy effort to hide his own emotion, "I
+am beginning to think that the ordinary daily newspapers are unsuitable
+reading for young ladies, who had better keep to the magazines and
+journals specially devoted to their wants."
+
+There was no word spoken in return, and after another cough, the old man
+continued:
+
+"What was that you said about dropping me at the club?  By all means,
+yes.  My leg was rather bad in the night.  Don't care so much about
+walking as I used."
+
+Still there was no reply, and, as if struck by the notion that he had
+been left alone in the room, Sir Mark coughed again nervously, and
+slowly moved himself in his chair, to turn the paper slightly aside,
+and, as if by accident, so that he could see beyond one side.
+
+He sat there the next moment petrified, and staring at his daughter's
+wildly excited face, for, resting one hand on the table, she was leaning
+toward him, her hand extended to take the paper, and her eyes
+questioning his, while Edie, looking terribly agitated, was also leaning
+forward as if to restrain her cousin.
+
+Sir Mark's lips parted and moved, but he made no sound.  Then recovering
+himself, he hastily closed the paper, doubled it over again, and rose
+from his chair.
+
+"Myra, my darling!" he cried, "are you ill?"
+
+Her lips now moved in turn, but without a sound at first; then she threw
+back her head, and her eyes grew more dilated as she cried hoarsely:
+
+"That paper--there is news--something about my husband."
+
+"Edie, ring!  She is ill," cried Sir Mark.
+
+"No, stop!" cried Myra.  "I am not a child now, father.  I tell you that
+there is news in that paper about my husband.  Give it to me.  I will
+see."
+
+Sir Mark was as agitated now as his child, and with a hurried gesture,
+perfectly natural under the circumstances, he thrust the paper behind
+him.  "No, no, my child," he stammered, with his florid face growing
+mottled and strange.
+
+"I say there is, father, and you are deceiving me."
+
+"Well, yes, a little, my darling," he said hastily.  "A little.  Not for
+your ears, dear.  Another time when you are cool and calm, you know.
+Edie, my dear, come to her; talk to her.  Myra, my child, leave it to
+me."
+
+Myra's hand went to her throat as if she were stifling, but once more
+she forced back her emotion.
+
+"Something about--the prison--my husband?"
+
+"Yes, yes, my dear.  Nothing so very particular.  Now do--do leave it to
+me, and try to be calm.  You frighten me.  There, there, my pet," he
+continued, trying to take her hand; "go to your room for a bit with
+Edie, and--yes, yes, lie down."
+
+"Give me the paper," she said hoarsely.
+
+"No, no, I cannot, indeed, my dear."
+
+"Ah!" cried the agitated girl wildly.  "I know--they have set him free?"
+
+Sir Mark glanced at his niece, and then passed his hand over his beaded
+forehead.
+
+"Yes, yes, my dear," he faltered; "he is free."
+
+"Ah! and he will come here and claim me, and then--"
+
+She reeled as if to fall, but her force of will was too great, and she
+mastered her emotion again, stepped forward, and seized the paper, her
+senses swimming as she turned it again and again, till the large type of
+the telegram caught her attention.
+
+Then she closed her eyes for a few moments, drew a long breath, and they
+saw her compress her lips and read without a tremor:
+
+  Daring attempted Escape.
+
+  Serious Affray.
+
+  Our correspondent at Grey Cliff telegraphs of a desperate attempt made
+  by three of the convicts at The Foreland last night about eight
+  o'clock.  By some means they managed to elude the vigilance of the
+  warders after the cells had been visited and lights were out, reached
+  the yard, and scaled the lofty wall.  Then, favoured by the darkness
+  of the night, they threaded their way among the sentries, and reached
+  the cliffs of the dangerous rocky coast, where, their evasion having
+  been discovered, they were brought to bay by a party of the armed
+  warders.  In the affray which ensued two of the warders were
+  dangerously wounded with stones, and the convicts were making their
+  way down the cliffs to the sea when orders were given to fire.  One of
+  the men was shot down, while, in the desperate attempts to escape
+  recapture, the others went headlong down the almost perpendicular
+  precipice which guards the eastern side of The Foreland.
+
+  Upon the warders descending with ropes, two of the men were brought
+  up, one with a shot through the leg, the other suffering from a badly
+  fractured skull, while, in spite of vigorous search by the boats of
+  H.M.S. _Merlin_, the body of the third man, which had been heard to
+  plunge into the sea, was not recovered.  We regret to add that the man
+  injured by his fall expired in the ambulance on the way back to the
+  prison.  He was the notorious convict Barron, or Dale, sentenced to
+  seven years' penal servitude, about a twelvemonth ago, for the daring
+  fraud upon the Russian government by the issue of forged rouble notes.
+
+The paper fell from Myra's hands as she stood there motionless, and
+apparently unmoved by the tidings she had read.  Then turning slowly,
+she held out her hand to Edie, who obeyed the imploring look in her
+eyes, and led her from the dining room to her own chamber without a
+word.
+
+"Myra," she whispered then, and she pressed closely toward her cousin,
+whose lips now parted, and she heard almost like a sigh:
+
+"Free--free!"
+
+"Talk to me, dear, talk to me," whispered Edie.  "It frightens me when
+you look like that."
+
+Myra turned to her, caught her cousin to her breast, and kissed her
+rapidly twice.  Then, thrusting her away, she whispered faintly:
+
+"Go now--go, dear.  I can bear no more;" and when, a few moments later,
+Edie looked back from the door she was about to close, Myra was in the
+act of sinking upon her knees by the bedside, where she buried her face
+in her hands.
+
+But hardly had the door closed when she sprang to her feet, and hurried
+across to shoot the bolt, and then stand with her hands to her head, and
+starting eyes, picturing in imagination the scene of the past night.
+The darkness and James Barron--her husband--the man who had haunted her
+night and day in connection with the hour when he would come back and
+claim her, not at the end of seven years, but earlier, released before
+his time--that man--while she sat below in her room at the piano--yes,
+she recalled vividly every minute of the previous night--she sat playing
+the melodies of old ballads, favourites of her father, with Percy Guest
+talking to Edie, and at that time this man was fighting to escape--this
+man, her horror.  And had he succeeded he would have come there.
+
+She shuddered as, from the brief description of the struggle, she saw
+him trying to descend the rocky face of the cliff, stumble when shots
+were fired, and fall headlong upon the cruel stones.
+
+It was horrible--too horrible to bear; and yet she felt obliged to dwell
+upon it all, and go over it again and again, shuddering at the pictures
+her active brain evoked till the agony was maddening.
+
+Then, to make her horror culminate, doubt stepped in to ask her, as if
+in an insidious whisper, whether she could believe it to be all true,
+and not some reporter's error.
+
+She felt as if she were withering beneath some cold mental blast, and in
+spite of the horror, her hopes and dreams, which would have place,
+shrank back again.  For it might be a mistake.  Some other wretched man
+had striven to escape, and in the hurry and darkness had been mistaken
+for her husband.
+
+But hope came again directly, and while shuddering at the thoughts, she
+recalled how explicit it had all been.  There could be no mistake.  She
+was wife no longer--tied no more by those hated bonds to a wretched
+adventurer--a forger--whose sole aim had been to get her father's
+money--she was free, and Malcolm Stratton had told her--
+
+She shuddered again at the horror of dwelling upon such thoughts at a
+moment when her ears were stunned by the news of death; but the thoughts
+were imperious.  She had never loved this man, and the ceremony had only
+been performed under misapprehension.  Once more she was free--free to
+follow the bent of her affections--free to give herself to the man she
+knew she loved.
+
+What had Malcolm Stratton said--what had he said?
+
+A mist had been gathering about her mental vision, and she staggered
+toward her bedside, once more to sink down and bury her burning face in
+her hands, for her emotion was greater than she could bear.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
+
+"SILENCE GIVES CONSENT."
+
+"Oh, it's you two again, is it?" said Miss Jerrold, in a tone of voice
+which might have been borrowed from her brother, as Stratton and Guest
+were shown up into her pretty little drawing room, where she sat ready
+to preside over her china tea tray with its quaint Sevres cups and
+saucers and parcel gilt apostle spoons, while a tall stand was on her
+left with its bronze kettle humming and whispering, and uttering a
+pleasant coo now and then, as it felt the warm kisses of the spirit
+lamp.
+
+Stratton's brows contracted and a look of resentment darted from his
+eyes as he stopped short, but Guest laughed and said airily:
+
+"Yes; it is your humble servant once again."
+
+"Well, and what do you want?"
+
+"Hear that, Stratton?" said Guest.  "A lady sends you her cards, `At
+home, Thursday, four to six;' we go to the expense of new lavender
+kids--no, come what may, I will be truthful, mine are only freshly
+cleaned--and new hats--no, truth shall prevail! a gloss over from the
+hatter's iron--drag ourselves all this way west to pay our devoirs--to
+drink tea out of thimbles, and eat slices of butter thinly sprinkled
+with bread crumbs, and the lady says, `What do you want?'"
+
+"Of course I do.  There, sit down, both of you, and, Malcolm Stratton,
+don't put on that wicked, melodramatic frown; it does not become you.
+You're a pair of impostors.  Think I'm blind?  You don't come here to
+call upon a poor old woman like--Quick, Percy, my dear boy!  Blow it
+out; we shall have the room in a blaze."
+
+"No, no, be cool," said Guest, and he made for the spirit kettle, whose
+lamp had become overheated, and was sending up quite a volume of flame.
+But Stratton was nearer, and taking out his handkerchief, he turned it
+into a pad, dabbed it on the lamp, and the light was smothered.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" sighed Miss Jerrold in tones full of relief, "now, that
+was very clever.  I do like presence of mind.  Sugar, Mr Stratton?"
+
+He bowed stiffly.
+
+"Haven't burned yourself, have you, my dear?"
+
+"Oh, no; my glove protected my hand," said Stratton, looking at the
+stiff, formal, handsome old body; half amused, half pleased, by the
+maternal "my dear."
+
+"Ah, now you're smiling at me," she said quickly.  "Sugar, Percy?"
+
+"A good deal, please, to take the taste of your harsh words out of my
+mouth."
+
+"There, then--two lumps.  I know you take sugar, Malcolm Stratton, and
+cream.  Well, my dear, I'm obliged to speak out; for you really are a
+pair of impostors, and I cannot have my house made a meeting place for
+would-be lovers.  There--there--there, Mr Stratton, don't pray turn
+like that, and look as if you were going to rush away.  Mine is a very
+delicate position, and I know my brother will be taking me to task some
+day about all this.  Now, do take my advice; and give it all up--Percy
+Guest, if you break that cup I'll never forgive you.  It cannot be
+matched."
+
+"Would you advise us to go and try our fortunes in Australia, Miss
+Jerrold?" said Guest quietly, as he replaced the tiny cup in the middle
+of its saucer, after nearly sending it on the carpet.
+
+"No, I would not, you stupid boy.  There, I don't mean you at all.  I
+dare say Edie will be silly enough to let you wheedle her into matrimony
+some day--a goose."
+
+Guest touched his breast.
+
+"You?  No," said the lady sharply, "Edie.  But you two are nobodies.  I
+was thinking about Mr Stratton, here.  Now, don't you think, my dear,
+you had better give it all up?"
+
+She held out her hand with a look of gentle sympathy to him, and he
+caught it and kissed it.
+
+"Do you think I ever could?" he said, in a low voice while Guest began
+to display great interest in the painting of the teacup.
+
+"No, I suppose not," said Miss Jerrold, with a sigh.  "It's very sad,
+you see, poor girl, she's going through a curious morbid phase which has
+completely changed her.  All that time she had her ideas that it was her
+duty to wait and suffer; and I do honestly believe that if that man had
+behaved himself, been released on a ticket of--ticket of--what do they
+call those tickets, Percy?"
+
+"Leave," said the young barrister gravely.
+
+"Yes; of course--she would have considered it her duty to go to him if
+he had come to claim her; and then died of misery and despair in a
+month."
+
+"Had we not better change the conversation, Miss Jerrold?" said Stratton
+quietly.
+
+"Yes, of course.  I'm a very stupid old woman, I suppose; but Myra does
+worry me a great deal.  One moment, and I've done, and I suppose things
+must take their course.  But all this treating herself as a widow and--
+there--there--there--I have done.  I suppose I need not tell you they
+are coming here to-day?"
+
+"I did hope to see Miss--"
+
+"Hush!  Don't call her that, my dear.  It must be Mrs Barron, or she
+will consider herself insulted.  Ah, she's a strange girl, Mr Stratton,
+but we can't help liking her all the same, can we?"
+
+She held out her hand to him with a pleasant smile and a nod; and Guest
+saw his friend's eyes brighten, and then noted his passionate, eager
+look, as there was a ring and knock.
+
+But the ladies who came up were strangers; and it was not until quite
+the last that Myra and her cousin arrived, the former in black, and with
+a calm, resigned look in her pale face, which had grown very thoughtful
+and dreamy during the six months which had elapsed since that morning at
+breakfast, when the news came of James Dale's tragic end.
+
+And now her eyes softened as she greeted Stratton, and she sat talking
+to him in a quiet, subdued way, till the gentlemen took their leave, and
+made their way back to Benchers' Inn.
+
+Hardly a word was spoken till they were in Stratton's room, where Guest
+threw his hat and umbrella down impatiently, walked straight to the door
+on the left of the fireplace, opened it, went in, and returned with a
+cigar box, which he set down, and then went back to fetch out the
+spirit-stand and a siphon from another shelf, while, dreamy looking and
+thoughtful, Stratton sat back in an easy-chair watching his friend's
+free and easy, quite at home, ways, but thinking the while of Myra.
+
+"Might have troubled yourself to get the glasses," said Guest
+ill-humouredly, as he fetched a couple of tall, green Venice cups from a
+cabinet, poured out some whisky, frothed it up from the siphon, and
+drank.
+
+"That's better," he said, with a sigh of satisfaction.  "Aren't you
+going to have one?"
+
+"Presently."
+
+"Presently?  Bah!  It's always presently with you.  I'm tired of
+presently.  Edie would say `Yes,' directly, and I could get Aunt Jerrold
+to coax the old man round if he wanted coaxing.  But it's always the
+same.  Look here; if you don't keep your cigars somewhere else, and not
+on a shelf over that damp bath, I won't smoke 'em.  Hardly get 'em to
+light.  Here," he continued, thrusting a cigar and a match-box into
+Stratton's hands, "do smoke and talk, you give a fellow the blues with
+your dismal looks."
+
+"I'm very sorry, old fellow," said Stratton, lighting the cigar.  "I am
+not dismal.  I feel very happy and contented."
+
+"Then you're easily satisfied," cried Guest.
+
+"Yes; because I hope and believe that if I am patient, my time will
+come."
+
+"Not it.  It's too bad of Myra."
+
+"No; I would not have her change," said Stratton dreamily.  "It is a
+hard and long probation, but I can wait, and I love her all the more
+dearly for her true womanly behaviour.  There, hold your tongue, you
+miserable, selfish reviler of one whom in your heart you look up to as a
+pattern of womanhood.  The joy would be almost greater than I could bear
+if she said `Yes'; but she is right, and I will patiently wait, for some
+day the time will come."
+
+"There you go again.  Presently.  It's all very well for you with your
+calm worship of your ideal woman, and your high-falutin talk about
+womanhood, etcetera, but I love my little Edie in a non-aesthetic,
+Christian-like, manly way; and it's maddening to be always kept off by
+the little thing with, `No, not till I see poor Myra happy.  Then,
+perhaps, you may begin to talk.'  Perhaps and presently make poor food
+for a fellow like me."
+
+Stratton smiled at him gravely.
+
+"That's right--laugh at me.  Tell you what, Mal, you're a poor lover.
+Why don't you ask her plump and plain?"
+
+Stratton made no reply but sat back smoking, and his friend said no more
+for a time.  At last, quietly:
+
+"Not such a bad cigar after all, Mal."
+
+Stratton did not reply for a few moments.  Then, in a low voice, full of
+emotion:
+
+"Percy, lad, you must bear with me: it is all too deep for words.  If we
+could change places you would do as I do.  Speak to her? pray to her?
+Have I not done all this till now when her eyes gaze in mine with their
+gentle, pleading calm, and say to me--`Bear with me; be patient.  If you
+love me, give me time till all these sorrows of the past have grown
+blurred and faint with distance.'  Guest, old fellow, she gives me no
+hope.  There is no verbal promise, but there is a something in her
+gentle, compassionate look which says to me--`Wait; if ever I can forget
+the past--if ever I marry man--it will be you.'"
+
+There was a deep silence in the room, and faintly heard came the roar of
+the great city street.
+
+Stratton was the first to break the silence by saying softly to himself:
+
+"Yes; wait: the time will come."  Again the silence was broken, this
+time by a strange hurrying, rustling sound behind the wainscot, followed
+by a dull thud.
+
+"What's that?" said Guest sharply.  "That?  Oh, only the rats.  There
+are plenty in this old house."
+
+"Ugh!  Brutes."
+
+"They only have runs behind the panelling.  They never come into the
+rooms."
+
+There was another silence before Guest spoke.  "Mal, old chap," he said,
+"I'm a miserable, impatient beast.  You are quite right; I'm in my
+ordinary senses once more.  Edie speaks just as you do, and she's as
+wise a little thing as ever stepped.  We must wait, old man; we must
+wait."
+
+Malcolm Stratton waited till one evening, when fortune favoured him for
+the moment once again.  It was by accident that he found Myra alone.  He
+had heard the tones of the piano as he went up to the drawing room in
+Bourne Square, and his heart had begun to beat wildly and then its
+pulsations grew to throbs and bounds, as he went in, to find her alone
+and playing softly in the half light.
+
+She did not cease, but her fingers strayed on over the keys, and once
+more as his arm rested upon the piano, the chords thrilled through his
+very being; and when, without a word, his hands were outstretched to
+take her to his breast, she sank upon it with a sigh of relief.  At that
+moment steps were heard upon the landing, and Edie and Miss Jerrold
+entered the room dressed to go to some concert, Sir Mark following
+directly after, from the dining room, with Guest.
+
+Myra did not shrink from Stratton till all had seen what had taken
+place.  Then, gravely crossing to her father, she laid her hands
+together upon his breast, while he waited for her to speak.
+
+The words came at last:
+
+"Father, dear, Malcolm has asked me to be his wife."
+
+Sir Mark drew her tightly to him, and held out his hand to Stratton.
+
+"Soon, dear, very soon, but it must be very quiet, and not from here."
+
+"Anything, my darling, to see you happy once again."
+
+The butler just then brought in a lamp, and they could see the love
+light beaming from her eyes.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
+
+AT THE SILENT DOCK.
+
+Even as Percy Guest rushed at his friend's door to bring one foot
+against the lock with all his might, he felt the futility of the
+proceeding.  For he knew how solid the old oak outer panels had been
+made; but he did not pause, and as his foot struck against it there was
+a dull sound--nothing more.
+
+Guest drew back again, fully impressed by the hopelessness of his
+proceedings, for the outer door opened toward him, and the effect of his
+next thrust was only to drive it against the jamb.
+
+He was recoiling again, with his muscles quivering from the violence of
+his efforts, when Miss Jerrold caught his arm.
+
+"Mr Guest," she said firmly, "this is madness.  You will bring a crowd
+of people about us, and only workmen could open that door."
+
+Guest hesitated a moment or two.
+
+"Stop!" he said.  "His friend, Mr Brettison, is in the next chambers,
+perhaps.  I'll go and see."
+
+"Come, Rebecca," said the admiral scornfully; "we have no business
+here."
+
+He held out his arm, but his sister thrust it away.
+
+"Yes; we have business here," she said.  "If, as Mr Guest suspects,
+some accident has befallen Malcolm Stratton, would you care to meet Myra
+without having been there?"
+
+She whispered this to her brother while Guest had gone to Brettison's
+door, at which he knocked sharply.
+
+The admiral turned fiercely upon his sister, but she did not shrink.
+
+"You know it's right," she said.  "Be reasonable, Mark.  Malcolm
+Stratton could not have insulted us all like this."
+
+"I can't make him hear," said Guest, after a second sharp summons at
+Brettison's door.  "I must fetch up a carpenter and make him force open
+this door."
+
+"You have no right to proceed to such violent measures, Mr Guest."
+
+"Then I shall assume the right, sir.  I believe that my friend lies
+behind that door wounded or murdered for the sake of the money he had
+ready for his wedding trip, and do you think I am going to stand on
+punctilio at a time like this?"
+
+Miss Jerrold looked very white and faint as she said quietly:
+
+"He is quite right, Mark."
+
+"Get workmen, then, in Heaven's name, sir, or the police."
+
+Guest took a step toward the stairs, but turned again.
+
+"I don't like the _expose_, sir," he said sharply.  "There might be
+reasons why I should repent going."
+
+"But you must have that door opened at once," cried Sir Mark, now once
+more growing excited, as if Guest's manner were contagious.
+
+Guest drew his hand over the door in search of a hold to try and drag it
+toward him, ending by thrusting it in by the letter slit and giving it a
+vigorous shake.
+
+He withdrew it, shaking his head, and paused, for steps were heard.  But
+they passed the doorway at the bottom of the building and died away,
+while, as he listened, all seemed to be silent upstairs and down.
+
+"We must have a carpenter," he said aloud; and, once more placing his
+ear to the letter slit, he listened, and then came away to where Sir
+Mark stood.
+
+"I'm certain I heard breathing within there," he whispered.  "Someone is
+listening, and I'm sure there is something wrong; but I don't like to
+leave you here alone, Sir Mark."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"In case some scoundrel should make a sudden rush out and escape."
+
+"Fetch a policeman," said Sir Mark sturdily.  "Let him try it while you
+are gone."
+
+At that moment, Guest uttered an eager cry, and thrust his hand into his
+pocket.
+
+"I'd forgotten that," he said, in answer to Miss Jerrold's inquiring
+look; "and I don't know now that it will fit."
+
+He had taken out his latchkey on the chance of that which fitted the
+lock of one set of chambers fitting that of another, and, thrusting it
+into the keyhole, he was in the act of turning it when, as if someone
+had been listening to every word and act, a bolt was suddenly shot back,
+and the door thrown open against Guest's chest.  He started back in
+astonishment, for there, in the dark opening, stood Malcolm Stratton,
+his face of a sickly sallow, a strange look in his eyes, and a general
+aspect of his having suddenly turned ten years older, startling all
+present.
+
+"What do you want?" he said harshly.
+
+The question was so sudden that Guest was stunned into muteness, but the
+admiral stepped forward fiercely.
+
+"You--you despicable scoundrel!" he roared; and as Stratton stepped back
+the old man followed him quickly into the room, and caught him by the
+throat.
+
+"Mark!  Mark!" cried Miss Jerrold, following to seize her brother's arm,
+while Guest, relieved beyond measure at finding his friend in the flesh,
+instead of his murderer, hurriedly entered and closed the outer door.
+
+"Stand aside, woman!" cried the admiral, fiercely wresting himself free
+in ungovernable rage on seeing the man who had caused the morning's
+trouble standing there unharmed.  The fact of Stratton being uninjured
+and making so insulting a demand half maddened him, and, seizing his
+collar, he was bearing him back, when Guest interposed, and separated
+them.
+
+"This will do no good, Sir Mark," he cried.  "For everybody's sake, sir,
+be calm."
+
+"Calm!" roared the old sailor furiously.
+
+"Yes, Mark, calm," whispered his sister, clinging to him firmly.  "Is it
+the act of an officer and a gentleman to behave like this?"
+
+"You don't know--you cannot feel as I do," he raged.
+
+"For Myra's sake," whispered Miss Jerrold quickly; and the old man made
+an effort and calmed down.
+
+"Let him explain then.  Let him say what it means.  A public insult.  To
+be degraded like this.  And after what is past."
+
+Meanwhile Stratton was looking wildly about him.  The sweat stood in
+great drops upon his haggard face, and he trembled violently, though it
+was apparent to his friend that he was fighting hard to be composed.
+
+Guest turned to Sir Mark.
+
+"Thank you, sir," he said.  "There must, as I have said, be good reasons
+for poor Stratton's actions.  Pray be patient with him.  You see, sir--
+you see, Miss Jerrold, he is ill and suffering.  Now, Stratton, for
+Heaven's sake speak out.  You must explain.  Tell Sir Mark what it is."
+
+"Take them away," said Stratton in a hoarse whisper; "take them away."
+
+"Yes, yes, but say something.  What is it--some sudden attack?  Come,
+man, don't look at me in that ghastly way; are you ill?"
+
+"No--no.  I don't know," faltered Stratton.
+
+"Then you must have some explanation to make."
+
+"No--no.  None.  Go!"
+
+"Mark--my dear brother," whispered Miss Jerrold.
+
+"Flesh and blood can't stand it, girl," he panted, with the veins in his
+temples purple; and snatching himself away, he thrust Guest aside and
+once more seized Stratton--this time by the arms.
+
+"Now, sir," he said hoarsely, "I know I ought to leave you in contempt
+for your cursed shilly-shallying, pusillanimous conduct, but with my
+poor child's agonised past before me, I can't behave as a polished
+gentleman should."
+
+Stratton glared at him in silence, with the pallor increasing, and his
+face assuming a bluish-grey tinge.
+
+"I came here believing--no, trying to believe--that you had been taken
+ill; that there was good reason for my child being once more exposed to
+a cruel public shame that must make her the byword of society.  I ask
+you for an explanation, and in this cursedly cool way you say you have
+none to offer.  You are not ill; you have not, as we feared, been
+attacked for your money, for there it lies on the table.  There is
+nothing wrong, then, with you, and--good God! what's this?"
+
+He started away in horror, for the hand he had in his anger shifted to
+Stratton's shoulder was wet, and, as he held it out, Miss Jerrold
+uttered a faint cry, for it was red with blood; and, released from the
+fierce grasp which had held him up, Stratton swayed forward, reeled, and
+fell with a crash on to the carpet.
+
+"He's hurt.  Wounded," cried Guest, dropping on one knee by his friend's
+side, but only to start up and dash into the adjoining room, to come
+back directly with basin, sponge, and water.
+
+"Damn!" raged the admiral, "what a brutal temper I have.  Poor lad! poor
+lad!  Fetch a doctor, Guest.  No.  That's right, sponge his temples,
+'Becca.  Good girl.  Don't fetch a doctor yet, Guest.  I am a bit of a
+quack.  Let me see."
+
+He went behind the prostrate man, who lay perfectly insensible, and kept
+on talking hurriedly as he took out a penknife and used it freely to get
+at the injury in the shoulder.
+
+"Why didn't he speak?  You were right, then, Guest.  Some scoundrel has
+been here.  Curse him! we'll have him hung.  To be sure--a bullet gone
+right through here--no; regularly ploughed his flesh.  Thank Heaven! not
+a dangerous wound.  I can bandage it.  But too much for a bridegroom.
+Poor lad! poor lad!"
+
+He tore up his own handkerchief and made a pad of his sister's, but
+these were not enough.  "Look here, Rebecca," he said; "you'd better go
+and leave us."
+
+"Nonsense!" said the lady sternly.  "Go on with your work, and then a
+doctor must be fetched."
+
+"Very well, then, if you will stay.  There, don't try to revive him yet.
+Let's finish.  Guest, my lad, take that knife and slit one of the
+sheets in the next room; then tear off a bandage four inches wide and as
+long as you can.  Let's stop the bleeding, and he won't hurt."
+
+All was done as he ordered, and the bandage roughly fixed, Stratton
+perfectly insensible the while.
+
+"'Becca, my dear--Guest, my lad," said the admiral huskily.  "Never felt
+so sorry in my life."  Then, taking Stratton's hand between both his
+own, he said, in a low voice, "I beg your pardon, my lad, humbly."
+
+"I don't like this long insensibility, Mark," said Miss Jerrold.
+
+"No; it's too long.  Has he any rum or brandy in the place?"
+
+"Yes," said Guest eagerly, and he hurried to the door of the
+bath-closet, and turned the handle, but it was locked.  "How tiresome!"
+he muttered.  "Here, I know."
+
+He dropped quickly on one knee by his friend, and thrust a hand into his
+coat pocket for his bunch of keys; when his hand came in contact with
+something, which he drew out with an ejaculation, and looked up at Sir
+Mark.
+
+"A pistol!" said the latter, and they stared in each other's eyes, just
+as Stratton began to show signs of recovery.
+
+"Why has he a pistol?" whispered Miss Jerrold; and her brother's whole
+manner changed.
+
+"I was thinking that you ought to have fetched the police at once, my
+lad," he said; "but it's as well you did not.  There are things men like
+hushed up."
+
+"I--I--don't know what you mean," faltered Miss Jerrold, while Guest
+slowly laid the weapon on the table, looking ghastly pale, and feeling a
+sensation of heart-sickness and despair.
+
+"Plain enough," said the admiral coldly.  "There is something more,
+though, behind.  Do you know what?" he cried sternly, as he fixed Guest
+with his eyes.
+
+"On my honour, no, Sir Mark."
+
+"It does not matter to us."
+
+"But it does, Mark," cried Miss Jerrold piteously; "and I am confused.
+What does it all mean?"
+
+"Heaven and the man himself alone know."
+
+"But, Mark, dear; I cannot understand."
+
+"Not with this before you plainly stamped," said the admiral bitterly.
+"Some old trouble--a lady, I suppose--men are all alike--there was an
+_expose_ imminent, I expect, and he sought a way out of it--the coward's
+way, and was too great a cur to take aim straight."
+
+They all looked down in horror at Stratton, where he lay, to see that he
+was now sensible to their words, and glaring wildly from face to face.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
+
+THE MAN IS MAD.
+
+Stratton rose slowly, and he was evidently confused and not quite able
+to grasp all that had been going on, till a pang from his injured
+shoulder spurred his brain.
+
+His right-hand went up to the bandage, and he began hastily to arrange
+his dress.
+
+He was evidently sick and faint, but to restore his garments was for the
+moment the dominant idea.
+
+Then another thought came, and he looked wildly round, hardly appearing
+to grasp the fact that friend and visitors had drawn back from him,
+while the former slowly uncocked the revolver and carefully extracted
+the cartridges, noting that four were filled, and two empty.
+
+Guest knew the billet of one of the bullets, and he involuntarily looked
+round for the other.
+
+He had not far to seek.  The shade covering the wired and mounted bones
+of an ancient extinct bird standing on a cabinet was shattered, and the
+bullet had cut through the neck vertebrae, and then buried itself in the
+oaken panelling.
+
+Guest lowered his eyes to his task again, and slowly placed the
+cartridges in one pocket, the pistol in the other, when, raising his
+eyes, he met the admiral's shadowed by the heavy brows; and the old
+officer gave him a nod of approval.
+
+"Well, Rebecca," he said, in a deep voice which seemed to hold the dying
+mutterings of the storm which had raged in his breast but a short time
+before; "we may go.  I can't jump on a fallen man."
+
+"Yes," said Miss Jerrold, with a look of sadness and sympathy at
+Stratton, who stood supporting himself against the table; "we had better
+go.  O Malcolm Stratton," she cried passionately, "and I did so believe
+in you."
+
+He raised his face, with a momentary flush of pleasure bringing back
+something of its former aspect.  But the gloom of despair came down like
+a cloud over a gleam of sunshine, and his chin fell upon his chest,
+though a movement now and then told that he was listening bitterly to
+every word.
+
+"Yes," said Sir Mark; "it's as well you did not get in the police.  Keep
+it all quiet for everyone's sake.  The doctor must know, though."
+
+Stratton's face was a little raised at this, and he turned slightly as
+Guest said:
+
+"Of course.  It is not a dangerous wound, but look at him."
+
+Stratton's chin fell again upon his breast.
+
+"In a few hours," continued the admiral, "fever will probably set in."
+
+A low, catching breath shook Stratton, and one hand grasped the table
+edge violently.
+
+"And he will be delirious."
+
+Stratton strove hard to contain himself, but he started violently, and
+raising his face he passed his right-hand across his dripping brow.
+
+"I cannot stop here, Guest," said Sir Mark.  "Come, Rebecca, my dear.
+You must not leave him alone.  Shall I send in a medical man?"
+
+"No!" cried Stratton hoarsely, in so fierce a voice that all started,
+and the admiral shrugged his shoulders, and drawing himself up crossed
+to the door, his sister following him with her face full of perplexity
+and commiseration.
+
+But she turned as she reached the door, hesitated for a moment, and the
+rigid hardness in her face, with its anger against the man who had done
+her niece so cruel a wrong, died away to give place to a gentle, womanly
+look of sorrow and reproach as she hurried back to where Stratton stood
+with his back to the table, grasping its edge, while the objects thereon
+trembled and tottered from the motion communicated by the man's
+quivering muscles.
+
+"Heaven forgive you, Malcolm Stratton!" she said slowly.  "I cannot now.
+I am going back to her.  Man, you have broken the heart of as true and
+sweet a woman as ever lived."
+
+Stratton did not stir, but stood there bent, and as if crushed,
+listening to the rustle of his visitor's rich silk, as she hurried back
+to her brother; then the door was opened, closed upon them, and a dead
+silence reigned in Stratton's study, as he and Guest stood listening to
+the faint sound of the descending steps till they had completely died
+away.
+
+Then Guest turned to his friend:
+
+"Now," he said coldly, "give me your arm.  No; stop.  Where are your
+keys?"
+
+Stratton raised his head sharply.
+
+"Where are your keys?"
+
+"What for?"
+
+"I want to get the spirits to give you a dram."
+
+"No, no," said Stratton firmly.  "Now go!"
+
+"Of course," said Guest bitterly.  "That's my way when you're in
+trouble.  You miserable fool!  You madman!" he roared, flashing out
+suddenly with passion.  "What is it?  Two years ago, when I came here
+and found you with that cyanide bottle on the table, and the glass ready
+with its draught, I stopped you then, you coward.  This time you were
+alone to attempt your wretched work."
+
+Stratton glared at him wildly.
+
+"And here have we all been scared to death, fearing that you had been
+attacked.  The admiral said you were a miserable coward, and you are.
+Where is your manhood?  Where is your honour, to carry on like this with
+poor Myra till the last moment, and then do this?  Hang it, man, why
+didn't you aim straight and end it, instead of bringing us to such a
+pitiful scene as this?"
+
+Stratton drew his breath hard.
+
+"There, I've done.  It's jumping, as he said, on a fallen man.  But I
+was obliged to speak.  Now, then, those keys."
+
+"Go!" cried Stratton sternly.  "Go.  Leave me!"
+
+"To play some other mad prank?  Not I.  I want those keys to get out the
+brandy."
+
+"I tell you no--no."
+
+"Very well.  It was to save you from fainting.  Faint then, and be
+hanged.  Give me your arm."
+
+"Will you go?" cried Stratton fiercely.
+
+"Yes, when you are on your bed, and then only to the door to call
+someone--"
+
+"What?"
+
+"To fetch the nearest doctor.  Come along."
+
+"Percy Guest--" began Stratton fiercely.
+
+"It's of no use," said Guest.  "Only waste of words.  Come along."
+
+Stratton made a quick movement to avoid him, and staggered into a chair;
+when his eyes closed, and he lay back fainting.
+
+"Poor wretch!" muttered Guest, snatching the basin and sponge to begin
+bathing the already damp face.  "I oughtn't to have bullied him."
+
+In a few moments Stratton opened his eyes again, and his first look was
+directed round the room.
+
+"It's all right, old chap," said Guest.  "Temper's gone.  Come, be
+sensible.  I won't say disagreeable things to you.  Give up the keys.
+You'd be better for a drop of brandy."
+
+"No," said Stratton hastily.  "Go and leave me now."
+
+"Impossible.  You must have the doctor."
+
+"I cannot; I will not."
+
+"But you must."
+
+"Do you hear what I say?" cried Stratton fiercely.
+
+"Yes.  There is no occasion to fly out at me for wanting to be of
+service."
+
+"I want no help.  I must be alone."
+
+"To go wandering off into a fit of delirium.  There, I'll call old
+mother Brade to fetch a surgeon."
+
+"You will not do so.  I forbid it."
+
+"Exactly, but you are a patient now.  There, don't be idiotic.  I can
+read you like a book."
+
+Stratton looked up at him sharply.
+
+"You don't want the doctor to see your wound and know how it came--
+there, don't stare in that wild way--leave it to me.  It was an
+accident.  You were fooling about with a revolver.  Cleaning it, say;
+and it went off.  That's all the doctor need know."
+
+"No one must know even that."
+
+"But your wound must be properly dressed."
+
+"I will not have it touched," cried Stratton decisively.  "Now, once
+more.  I am not much hurt.  Go."
+
+Guest laughed bitterly.
+
+"No, my boy, you don't get rid of me.  I'll stick to you like your
+conscience."
+
+Stratton's eyes dilated.
+
+"And I'm going to be master here till you are well bodily and mentally."
+
+"I tell you I am not much hurt.  Mentally!  Pooh, I'm as well as you
+are."
+
+"Better, of course.  Why, what nonsense you are talking!" cried Guest,
+pointing to the other's wounded shoulder.  "Come, don't let us argue
+more.  Give in sensibly, there's a good fellow, and let me do my best
+for you.  I know you see things in a wrong light now, but you'll thank
+me some day."
+
+They watched each other furtively, and Guest could see how hard his
+friend was evidently planning to get rid of him, while, on his own part,
+he was calculating his chances.  He knew that mad people were
+superhumanly strong, but then in spite of his conduct he could not in
+his own mind grant that Stratton was mad.  It was a case of what
+coroners call "temporary insanity," due to some trouble which had been
+kept hidden; and if there should be a struggle, Guest felt that he would
+be more than a match for his friend, injured as he was.
+
+Stratton was the first to speak, in a low voice, which suggested his
+being faint and in great pain.
+
+"Now I'm better.  Will you go and leave me?"
+
+Guest took a chair, and placing its back opposite to his friend, strode
+across it, and rested his arms on the rail.
+
+"Look here, Stratton, old fellow; I've always trusted you, and you've
+always trusted me."
+
+"Yes, of course," said Stratton hurriedly.
+
+"Well, then, as your old chum--the man who has stuck to you and is going
+to stick to you all through this hobble into which you have got
+yourself--don't you think it would be as well to make a clean breast of
+it--to me?"
+
+Stratton's eyes dilated as he spoke, and his look was so strange that
+Guest involuntarily prepared himself for some outbreak.
+
+"You can trust me," continued Guest, and he saw a look of despair come
+into his friend's countenance.  "Come, old chap, what's the use of a
+friend if he is not to help you?  You know I want to."
+
+Stratton's lips parted in an almost inaudible, "Yes."
+
+"Well, then, for poor Myra's sake."
+
+Stratton started as if he had been stung.
+
+"I can't help hurting you, and I repeat--for her sake.  She is a woman.
+She loves you."
+
+"For pity's sake, don't, don't," groaned Stratton in a voice full of
+unutterable anguish.
+
+"She loves you, I say," continued Guest firmly; "and, whatever has been
+the cause of this madness, she will forgive you."
+
+Stratton shook his head slowly.
+
+"But I say she will.  Come, we are none of us perfect.  I tell you I am
+fighting for you now as well as myself.  Your act this morning injures
+Edie and me too.  So take it like this, old fellow.  You have done wrong
+in some way; is not an attempt to make amends the first step toward
+showing repentance?"
+
+"You don't know--you don't know," groaned the wretched man.
+
+"Not yet; you will not be open.  Come now, be frank with me.  In your
+utter despair, consequent upon your nerves being weak with mental worry,
+you used that pistol."
+
+Stratton buried his face in his hands.
+
+"The old man was right," continued Guest; "it was a cowardly way to get
+out of the difficulty.  Let me help you.  Come, once more, make a clean
+breast of it."
+
+Stratton's hands fell again, and there was an eager look in his face;
+his lips parted and he was about to speak, but the look faded away and
+in a despondent, weary way he sank back once more.
+
+"Very well.  I will not press you now," said Guest.  "You'll think
+better of it, old fellow.  I'll wait.  Now, then, let me help you into
+your room."
+
+"What for?" cried Stratton suspiciously.
+
+"Because a wounded man must be better lying down."
+
+"So that you can lock me in and go for people--for doctors?"
+
+"He is queer," thought Guest.  "The cunning of a man off his head."
+
+As he thought this he rose, walked to the bedroom door, opened it, and
+took the key out to hand to his friend.
+
+"There, are you satisfied?  Look here, Mal, even to better you I will
+not play any treacherous trick like that?"
+
+"I believe you," said Stratton quietly; and he waved away the hand
+holding the key.
+
+"So far, so good, then.  Will you come and lie down while I fetch a
+doctor?"
+
+"No.  I will not have a doctor.  It is a mere scratch."
+
+"Very well.  Come and sit down, then."
+
+Stratton shook his head.
+
+"Invalids must be humoured, I suppose.  Sit where you are then, and try
+and have a nap.  You'll be calmer afterward--I hope," he added to
+himself.
+
+Guest changed the position of his chair, took up a book, and crossed to
+a lounge, but as he was in the act of turning it he saw that Stratton
+was watching him keenly.
+
+"Don't do that.  I want you to leave me now."
+
+"I know you do," said Guest quietly; "but I am not going."
+
+Stratton drew a heavy, catching breath, and lay back in his chair, while
+Guest opened the book he had taken at random, and read from it half a
+dozen romances which he made up as he went on.  For he could not see a
+word of the printed matter, and in each of these romances his friend was
+the hero, who was being hunted to desperation by some woman with whom he
+had become entangled.
+
+From time to time he glanced across at his friend as the hours glided
+by, hoping to see that he slept; but he always caught a glimpse of a
+pair of eager eyes watching him.
+
+At last, about six o'clock, faint, weary, and oppressed by the terrible
+silence in the room, Guest laid down the book.
+
+"Going?" said Stratton eagerly.
+
+"No.  Only to send for Mrs Brade."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"To get her to run to the Peacock, and tell them to bring some dinner
+and a bottle of Bass.  You can eat something?"
+
+"Bring dinner--here?" gasped Stratton.
+
+"Yes.  I have had nothing since early breakfast."
+
+"You cannot have it here," said Stratton, making an effort, and speaking
+firmly.  "I am better and calmer now.  After a night's rest I shall be
+myself again."
+
+"I hope so," said Guest quietly.
+
+"So go now, there's a good fellow.  I'll explain everything to you some
+day, and I shall be far better alone."
+
+"Yes; you are fit to trust!"
+
+"You need not sneer.  You think I shall make some insane attempt upon my
+life."
+
+Guest looked at him fixedly.
+
+"Yes; you have good reason for doubting me, but I swear to you that you
+may trust me."
+
+At that moment steps were heard upon the stairs, almost inaudible; but
+whoever it was whistled some melody, and before Stratton could stay him,
+Guest threw open the door, and called to the whistler to come back.
+
+"Want me, sir?" said a telegraph boy, appearing in the opening.
+
+"Yes," said Guest, giving the boy sixpence; "ask the woman at the lodge
+to come up here directly."
+
+"All right, sir."
+
+Guest returned to his seat, and saw that Stratton's face was averted and
+his eyes closed.
+
+"Finds he must give way," said the young barrister to himself; and once
+more there was silence, till Mrs Brade's knock was heard.
+
+Guest admitted her, and cut short a string of wondering exclamations by
+giving her his orders.
+
+"Oh, certainly, sir," she cried; "but I thought--"
+
+"Yes, of course you did, my dear madam, but unfortunately Mr Stratton
+was suddenly taken ill."
+
+"Oh, poor dear!" cried Mrs Brade, in deep concern.  "Let me go and ask
+my doctor to--"
+
+"No," cried Stratton so fiercely that the woman started and turned pale.
+
+"Go and do as I said," whispered Guest; and after a while the
+refreshments were brought, partaken of, and, in spite of his friend's
+protests, Guest insisted upon passing the night in an easy-chair,
+dropping off to sleep occasionally, to dream that Stratton was
+threatening to destroy his life, and waking to find him in his
+easy-chair thrust back to the side of the fireplace between him and the
+panelled door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
+
+TWO NIGHTS OF WATCHING.
+
+"Thank goodness!" said Guest to himself, as he moved slightly and saw
+that his companion appeared to be sleeping heavily; but as he rose
+Stratton followed his example, looking very pale, but more like himself.
+
+"Morning; how are you?" said Guest.
+
+"Better--much better."
+
+"You should have undressed and gone to bed, and you'd have been better
+still.  How's the shoulder?"
+
+"Gave me a good deal of pain several times in the night, but it is
+easier now."
+
+"Glad of it, but take my advice; let's have in a doctor, and let him
+dress it properly."
+
+"There's no need," said Stratton quietly.  "A wound only needs to be
+kept from exposure to the air to heal itself."
+
+"Well, of all the obstinate fellows!"
+
+"Oh, no," said Stratton, with a wan smile.  "You see I have been very
+obedient.  If the wound is disposed to turn bad, as I shall soon know, I
+will have medical advice.  If there is no need, surely you can spare me
+the annoyance of answering a surgeon all kinds of questions, and being
+tied-down to his routine."
+
+"Well, I will not worry you, old fellow, for you do seem to be better."
+
+"Much," said Stratton quietly.  "I only want to be at peace for a time.
+I think I shall go into the country."
+
+"Will you?"
+
+"Y-e-s, I think I will."
+
+"With me.  Then we'll go as soon as you can start."
+
+"No, no," cried Stratton excitedly.  "I should be poor company, and
+would rather go alone."
+
+"Not fit.  Look here.  Happy thought.  I'll ask Brettison in."
+
+"No, no!" cried Stratton excitedly.
+
+"But he's the very man.  Quiet, calm, and don't talk.  Go and pick
+buttercups and daisies along with him for a few days, and then come back
+to me quite _compos mentis_, and we'll see what can be done."
+
+Guest made toward the door, but Stratton intercepted him.
+
+"I tell you no," he said firmly, "and--and--Brettison is out."
+
+"Out?"
+
+"Gone into the country."
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated Guest, looking at his friend curiously, for there
+was something in his manner which puzzled him.  But Stratton said
+cheerfully:
+
+"Nearly nine.  Will you order some breakfast from the tavern?"
+
+"Eh, to be sure.  Let's go.  No; afraid you are not well enough.  I'll
+send Mrs Brade.  But no nonsense," said Guest.
+
+"I give you my word," said Stratton quietly.
+
+"I take it;" and after a visit to the bedroom Guest came back, looking
+refreshed and ready to go out and order the meal to be brought.
+
+In due time this was at the door, and, to the young barrister's great
+satisfaction, his friend drank a cup of coffee, and ate sparingly of
+some dry toast, looking every minute more and more himself.
+
+There were moments when his face twitched and his eyes looked strange;
+but that Guest set down to the pain of his wound; and in the course of
+the morning, feeling more and more relieved, he said:
+
+"Look here, old fellow, I think if you'll give me your word of honour
+there shall be no nonsense, I'll go back to my place and change,"--he
+glanced at his wedding garments as he spoke.
+
+"Yes, I would," said Stratton quietly.
+
+"You are not going to be ill?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"And I can trust you?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Then I will go."
+
+"Oh, yes; I shall be all right now, and I may write to you from the
+country and ask you to join me."
+
+"Thanks," said Guest dryly; "but you are not going yet.  We'll talk
+about that when I come back."
+
+"Come back?" said Stratton wildly.
+
+"Oh, yes; I shan't be above an hour."
+
+"But, really, my dear Percy--"
+
+"I will not hear a word now.  There, let some fresh air into the room;
+the place smells stuffy; my fault, I suppose.  It's as if the ghosts of
+all the cigars I have smoked here were rising up in evidence against me.
+Ta ta!  I shall not be long."
+
+Stratton made no reply, but smiled at him faintly as he passed out and
+closed the door after him.  But the moment Stratton was alone there was
+a sudden change.  He clasped his hands to his head, and began to pace
+the room with rapid strides, but dropped one arm directly as he turned
+pallid with pain.
+
+"What to do?" he muttered--"what to do?  Mad?  Enough to make me.  Well,
+let them think what they please.  It makes no difference now."
+
+He thrust his hand into his pocket and took out a key, and then
+shuddered; but drawing himself up, he set his teeth hard and crossed to
+where the easy-chair stood in which he had passed the night, wheeled it
+from the door, and went to the window after slipping the bolt.
+
+His hand was on the blind, and he was in the act of drawing it down when
+there was a knock, and he stood as if paralysed.
+
+"Back so soon!" he thought, and, as if recalling the scene of the
+previous day, when Guest insisted upon admission, he gave a sharp glance
+round the room, smoothed his hair, and went and opened the door.
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Mrs Brade, stepping in; and he involuntarily
+gave way.  "Mr Guest asked me to come in and tidy you."
+
+"No, no, not to-day.  I--"
+
+"But Mr Guest said I was to, sir, and if you objected I was to tell you
+to be calm.  It's very glad I am to see you much better," said the
+woman, going to the bedroom.  "Why, you haven't been to bed all night,
+sir.  I don't wonder you look pale," she continued, re-entering and
+crossing the room.  "Did you use your bath?"
+
+She uttered a wild cry as Stratton rushed at her, caught her by the
+shoulder with a fierce grip, and swung her away.
+
+"I tell you," he cried, with a fierce growl, "I will not have the place
+touched.  Go!  At once!"
+
+The woman was too much alarmed to speak, and, making for the door,
+hurried out, and made for the porter's lodge, "that agitated," as she
+said to herself afterward, "that she felt as if she could never go there
+again."
+
+Stratton wiped the cold sweat from his brow as soon as he was alone, and
+once more began to pace the room, with the key in his hand.  But he did
+not use it.  Thrusting it back in his pocket, he sat down and hurriedly
+wrote a letter, in which he inclosed a cheque; then looking out an
+address from a directory, he fastened down the envelope, and opened the
+window, at which he waited till he saw a familiar face, and asked its
+owner to slip the letter in the first pillar box.
+
+This act seemed to revive him, and he grew a little calmer.  He turned
+to a cabinet containing natural history specimens preserved in spirits,
+and taking out first one and then another, he carefully examined them,
+removing the tied-down stoppers of several of the large-mouthed vessels;
+and he was still examining one of these, with the spirit therein looking
+limpid still, when there was a double knock.
+
+His first idea, as he started up, was to hurriedly replace the glass
+vessel, but a moment's thought decided him upon leaving it on the table
+and opening the door.
+
+"Back again, you see," said Guest, looking at him inquiringly.  "Ah,
+busy with your specimens.  That's right.  Nothing like keeping the mind
+busy; but clear away; the fellow will be here soon with the dinner, and
+I've brought some cigars.  Mrs Brade been?"
+
+"Yes; but you are not going to stay here this evening?"
+
+"Indeed, but I am."
+
+Stratton frowned, but said nothing, and in due time the dinner came, was
+eaten, and the evening became a repetition of the last, but with the
+difference that Stratton seemed far more calm and able to keep himself
+under control.
+
+But as the night wore on he stubbornly refused to go to bed.  If his
+friend intended to stay there in a chair, he would do the same.
+
+"Compulsion will only make him wild and irritate his wound," thought
+Guest, and twelve o'clock struck as they settled themselves in their
+chairs as before.
+
+"Better humour him," said Guest to himself, as he felt more content with
+the change growing in his friend; "he'll be better to-morrow, and then,
+perhaps, tell me all about his trouble."
+
+The lamp had been turned down, so that the room was very gloomy, but
+there was light enough for Guest to make out the weird aspect of the
+busts and various natural history specimens about, one great eagle owl
+over the door catching a gleam of the lamp, and looking, with its fixed
+glass eyes, fully aware of the mystery overhanging the place.  The
+various articles of furniture, too, assumed a strange guise, and cast
+shadows of a startling nature; but, after a few minutes, Guest settled
+down to the contemplation of his friend, whose eyes seemed to be closed,
+though a few minutes later a faint scintillation showed that he was
+still awake and watchful.
+
+But Guest was too weary now to feel any dread.  Stratton was evidently
+sorry for his mad attempt, and perfectly sane, so, after a few brave
+efforts to keep awake, the young barrister calmly dropped off into a
+deep sleep, and the busy working of a dream, in which Edie was
+scornfully telling him that she had discovered all about his escapade
+with a dark woman resembling the queen of spades, and when he tried to
+catch her in his arms and convince her that he was a perfectly innocent
+man, she sprang from her seat, uttering a piercing cry.
+
+Trembling and startled, Guest leaped up, to find the lamp turned to its
+full height, and, with the strange hoarse cry still ringing in his ears,
+he saw Stratton standing back against the cabinet farthest from the
+fireplace, glaring wildly, while from out of the closet, apparently, a
+curious rustling noise, followed by a dull blow upon something hollow,
+fell upon his ear.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
+
+MRS BRADE HAS IDEAS.
+
+Thinking over the events of the past nights, and the overwrought state
+of his friend's nerves, which had made him start in horror from his
+sleep at the noise made by the rats which infested the old house, Guest
+went on to muse over his position, and the prospects of the admiral
+accepting him as a husband for his niece, while Myra's engagement stood
+as it did.
+
+"Time cures all things," he muttered.  "Wonder how the poor boy feels
+now.  By George, he startled me and spoiled my night."
+
+He had been having an early walk, Stratton seeming calm enough that
+morning, and he was now returning through the archway when there was a
+low cough, and he heard his name uttered.
+
+Turning sharply, it was to see Mrs Brade at her doorway, beckoning to
+him.
+
+"Good-morning.  You wish to speak to me?"
+
+"Yes, sir, if you would not mind stepping inside, sir.  I'm all alone,
+except my husband, sir."
+
+Guest stepped into the little room, half parlour, half kitchen, of the
+porter's lodge, and Mrs Brade carefully wiped a highly polished, well
+beeswaxed chair with her apron and set it by the fire.
+
+"No, no, not there," said Guest hastily.  "I'm hot enough already."
+
+"Of course, sir," said the woman, changing the position; "and you've
+been walking, sir.  One oughtn't to have a fire on a day like this; only
+you see, sir, one must cook and do everything here when one only has one
+room."
+
+"Of course, Mrs Brade; but it is quite a little palace of cleanliness."
+
+"Which it's very good of you to say so, sir," said Mrs Brade, with an
+ill-used air, "and it would be if it wasn't for my husband.  He's one of
+the best of men, sir, but that untidy in his habits.  What with one boot
+here, and another boot there, and tobacco ashes all over the place, he
+nearly worries my life out."
+
+A low, peculiar sound came from an ajar door, sounding like a
+remonstrant growl from the gentleman in question, whereupon Mrs Brade
+went and shut the door, and drew an old moreen curtain across the
+opening.
+
+"He do breathe a little hard in his sleep, sir," she said
+apologetically.
+
+"And likes plenty of it, eh?"
+
+"Oh, dear no, sir.  It's only eleven yet," replied Mrs Brade, glancing
+at a sallow-faced Dutch clock on the wall.  "He isn't doo till twelve.
+You forget, sir, as he's up pretty well all night to let in gents at all
+hours."
+
+"Loose fish?"
+
+"Some of 'em, sir--if you means gents as don't behave themselves and
+comes home smelling of spirits horrid.  But most of 'em's from Fleet
+Street, sir, from the noosepapers, as keeps 'em till two and three and
+four o'clock, and sometimes later."
+
+"Of course, of course, Mrs Brade," said Guest, rising.  "We must have
+our morning papers."
+
+"Yes, sir, _and_ our bread and rolls; not that I wish you to think we've
+anyone in the inn as is a baker."
+
+"I did not think so, Mrs Brade; but I'm in a hurry."
+
+"And I won't detain you, sir.  But, of course, you were going in to see
+poor Mr Stratton, sir."
+
+"Yes; what of that," said Guest sharply.
+
+"I wanted to speak to you, sir, about him very serious, sir.  Only
+yesterday, sir--"
+
+"Yes; go on, my good woman, go on.  Is there anything fresh?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir," said the woman, putting her apron to her eyes.  "I know
+all about his love troubles from the first."
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"And how he was disappointed about having Miss Jerrold."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"And then, sir, when at last it was to come off, you see it was too much
+for him."
+
+"And he has turned a little ill.  There, he will soon be better."
+
+"I hope so, sir," said Mrs Brade, shaking her head, "but I'm afraid."
+
+"Look here, you have seen or heard something to account, perhaps, for
+his sudden illness."
+
+"Don't call it illness, sir; the poor dear gentleman is mad."
+
+"Mrs Brade!"
+
+"It's a fact, sir, I assure you, and we may as well out with the truth."
+
+"Look here," said Guest, speaking hoarsely, for he felt startled at the
+woman's words, coinciding so exactly with horrible thoughts hidden in
+his own breast.  "This is a very serious thing to say.  What grounds
+have you for such an assertion?"
+
+"Well, sir, if you'll sit down I'll tell you."
+
+Guest reseated himself, feeling that if he wished to hear, he must let
+the woman go on in her own way.
+
+"I've always liked Mr Stratton, sir, since he's been here, and his name
+always putting me in mind of Lady Burdett Coutts' house at the corner of
+Strutton Street, where I have visited one of the servants."
+
+Guest made an impatient gesture.
+
+"Yes, sir, I am coming to it as fast as I can.  You see doing for him so
+long and looking upon him like a son, and doing for Mr Brettison, too,
+as is always most aggravating about his dusting, and his room's a
+disgrace, but I never thought of Mr Stratton turning like that."
+
+"Like what?"
+
+"I'm telling you, sir.  Getting so that it's a favour to be allowed to
+go into his room to tidy up, and him watching you and following you
+about with his eyes, and glaring at you all the time."
+
+"Of course, he does not like his specimens touched."
+
+"All which I know, sir, and I've studied him; but he never went on as he
+does now."
+
+"Oh, nonsense! he's ill and doesn't want to be worried."
+
+"He's mad, sir, as Bedlam."
+
+"Mrs Brade!"
+
+"He is, sir, and last night he tried to strangle me."
+
+"What?"
+
+"He did, sir, as I'm a sinful soul, and when I got away from him down
+the stairs and back here into my room, it's a mercy as I didn't faint
+away."
+
+"He touched you?"
+
+"Touched me, sir?  He seized me.  Oh, poor, dear gentleman, he's gone."
+
+"Look here," said Guest sharply, "have you told anybody about it?"
+
+"No, sir; not yet."
+
+"Then for Heaven's sake don't, Mrs Brade," said Guest, in a low,
+hurried tone.  "It was, perhaps, only a sudden paroxysm.  You say you
+like him."
+
+"Which indeed I do, sir."
+
+"Then pray be silent.  If such a report were spread it would be his
+ruin."
+
+"Yes, sir, I thought of all that, and doctors signing things, and
+keepers coming to take him to shut him up in cells, with chains, and
+darkness, and howlings, and gnashing his teeth.  Oh, my poor dear! my
+poor dear!  Such a bonnie, good, lovable gentleman as you were!"
+
+Mrs Brade threw up her apron to her face and burst out into such a
+genuine passion of sobs and tears that Guest was touched, and he rose
+and placed his hand upon her arm.
+
+"Hush, hush!" he whispered; "don't take on like that.  Perhaps it is
+only due to excitement, and he'll soon come round."
+
+"Do you think so, sir?" cried the woman, dropping her apron.
+
+"I do, indeed, if he is kept quiet.  Why, if it was known--"
+
+"And the keepers came, sir?"
+
+"Come, come, it's not so bad as that.  You have curious ideas about the
+treatment of the insane."
+
+"Oh, no, sir; I've heard so much, sir."
+
+"Never mind: we will not argue that.  One thing is certain--any worry or
+excitement would be sure to make him worse."
+
+"Of course, sir."
+
+At that moment Mr Brade's hard breathing was audible through the door
+and curtain, and Guest looked at it uneasily.
+
+"Then you have not told your husband?"
+
+"Indeed, no, sir."
+
+"Then do not.  Nor anyone else.  We must keep this as our secret, Mrs
+Brade.  My poor friend will come right I hope and feel, in time; so help
+me to guard him from all worry."
+
+"Indeed I will, sir."
+
+"No one must know.  It would be bad for him at the institution."
+
+"Yes, sir, and he'd have to give up his chambers, of course, if any of
+the neighbours--I mean gentlemen in the other rooms--made complaints."
+
+"All of which we can avoid.  It only wants time.  There, I'll go up and
+see him now, and Mr Brettison, too.  Mind, I rely upon your being
+discreet."
+
+"Of course, sir, and thank you for coming in.  You don't know how much
+good you've done me, sir."
+
+"I'm glad you spoke to me," said Guest; and he went across the inn to
+Stratton's chambers.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
+
+IN GROSS DARKNESS.
+
+The staircase was very gloomy and quiet as Guest ascended, and he paused
+on the landing on finding Stratton's outer door shut, and after a few
+moments' hesitation, turned off to the left, meaning to have a few words
+with Brettison about their friend's state.
+
+This door was also shut and he turned back, but feeling that, perhaps,
+after all, Brettison might be in, he knocked; waited; knocked again, and
+stood listening.
+
+"Off somewhere again picking flowers," muttered Guest.  "Men begin by
+picking them as children, and some end their lives gathering the sweet,
+innocent looking things."
+
+He, however, gave one more double knock before turning away and going
+back to Stratton's door.
+
+Here he knocked gently, but there was no reply.  He knocked again,
+feeling a sensation of nervousness come over him as he thought of the
+words of the porter's wife; and, as there was no reply, he could not
+help a little self-congratulation at there being no admission.
+
+But he frowned at his weakness directly.
+
+"Absurd!  Cowardice!" he muttered.  "This is nothing like acting the
+friend."
+
+He knocked again, and, as there was still silence, he lifted the cover
+of the letter slit and placed his lips to the place.
+
+"Here, Malcolm, old fellow, open this door," he cried.  "I'm sure you
+are there."
+
+A faint rustling sound within told him he was right, and directly after
+the door was opened.
+
+"You, Percy!" said the hollow-faced, haggard man, staring at him, and
+giving way unwillingly as, forcing himself to act, Guest stepped forward
+and entered the room.
+
+He repented the moment he was inside, for the room looked strange and
+gloomy through the window blind being drawn down, and there was a
+singularly wild, strained look in Stratton's eyes, which never left him
+for a moment, suggestive of the truth of Mrs Brade's words.
+
+Stratton had hurriedly closed the outer door upon his friend's entrance,
+but he had left the inner undone; and now stood holding it open as if
+for his visitor to go.
+
+Guest felt ready to obey, but he again mastered his weakness and took a
+chair, knowing that if he was to perform a manly act and save his
+friend, he must be calm and firm.  But in spite of himself, as he took
+his seat he gave a hasty glance round the room, thinking of its
+loneliness, and the extreme improbability of anyone hearing a cry for
+help.
+
+"Why have you come back so soon?" said Stratton at last.
+
+"The old reason.  Sort of stupid, spaniel-like feeling for the man who
+kicks me."
+
+Stratton made a hasty gesture.
+
+"Didn't like to stop away long after your being so upset last night."
+
+Stratton shuddered, and his friend watched him curiously again.
+
+"I'm much better now."
+
+"Glad of it, but your nerves are terribly unstrung; or you wouldn't be
+ready to jump out of your skin at the sound of a rat."
+
+Stratton shuddered.
+
+"I know you couldn't help it."
+
+"No, but it's going off now fast, and if I could be alone I should soon
+be right."
+
+"Doubt it.  No good; you must put up with me for a bit."
+
+He tried to look laughingly in his companion's eyes, but there was a
+strong feeling of dread at his heart as he felt that wild thoughts
+evidently existed in his friend's brain, and that there was some
+terrible mischief hatching there.
+
+"Look here, Mal," he said, mastering his own shrinking by remembrance of
+how the strong-witted man could often master the brain unhinged; "my
+impression is that you want change.  Suppose you and I take a run.  What
+do you say to Switzerland, and start to-day?"
+
+Stratton shuddered, and a curious, sneering smile dawned on his face.
+
+"Why don't you ask me to explain my conduct again?" he said fiercely.
+
+"Because I have no right to.  You are your own master, and are
+answerable to yourself."
+
+"I'll tell you," continued Stratton, without heeding his visitor's
+words, "it is because you think I am mad."
+
+"Do I?  Absurd!"
+
+"Yes.  That is why you are here."
+
+"I am not going to contradict you; but I will tell you why I am here.
+My old friend and companion suddenly turned queer, attacked with some
+illness, and I said to myself, `If I were to be bad like that I hope
+poor old Mal would come to me as I'm going to him.'"
+
+A hoarse sound, like a suppressed sob, escaped from Stratton's lips,
+and, by a rapid movement, he caught and wrung Guest's hand.  But the
+wild look never left his eyes, and at the end of a few seconds he cast
+the hand away.
+
+"Oh, it's true enough, old lad," said Guest, smiling.  "You know it,
+too.  I want to do it for everybody's sake."
+
+Stratton made a peculiar movement in the air with his extended hands.
+
+"Come, come, don't take it that way, old fellow," cried Guest.  "Sit
+down."
+
+Stratton hesitated, and seemed to be trying to resist, but his friend's
+calm firm way mastered him.
+
+"That's better; now, then, let's look matters plainly in the face, as
+doctor and patient if you like.  You're off the line, Mal.  There's no
+denying it.  Overstrain.  Well, it's bad.  Painful for you and
+everybody."
+
+A low moan escaped from Stratton.
+
+"Bah! don't groan over it, man.  The human mind is a wonderful bit of
+machinery, and it gets out of order if you don't take care.  You haven't
+taken enough care, and have broken down.  Bad; but we've got to mend you
+and make you stronger than ever."
+
+Stratton shook his head, and his pallor was so ghastly, as he now sank
+back in his chair and closed his eyes, that Guest was startled, and
+sprang up and made for the closet where he knew from of old that the
+spirit-stand was kept.
+
+But at the first movement in that direction Stratton leaped to his feet
+and intercepted him.
+
+"Stop!" he cried.  "I am not ill.  Let me be, Guest.  You can do me no
+good."
+
+"How do you know?  I say I can," cried the young man sharply, "and
+what's more, I will.  Now, come, lad, be reasonable.  You're out of
+gear, and you're going to submit to me."
+
+"I am my own master, as you said, and I will not be spied over or
+interfered with."
+
+"Spied over" sounded bad--not like the words of a sane man.
+
+"Bah!  Who wants to spy over you?"
+
+"Interfered with, then.  Now go and leave me to myself."
+
+"I shall not," said Guest doggedly.
+
+"You will, sir.  These are my rooms; your visit is ill timed; please to
+go, and wait till I ask you to visit me again."
+
+"Hah, that settles it, if there were any doubt before.  That's not my
+old schoolfellow talking.  You are ill--mentally ill, lad--so give in."
+
+"Leave my rooms, sir!"
+
+"If I do, it will be to bring others back with me who will insist upon
+your yielding to proper treatment."
+
+"Hah, you confess then?  You think me mad."
+
+"I did not say mad; I told you what I know now to be a fact.  Will you
+give in and let me treat you on sound, common-sense principles, or drive
+me away to come back with others?"
+
+"You would not dare," said Stratton, in a low, fierce whisper.
+
+"But I do dare anything for your sake--there, I'll speak out!--for
+Myra's."
+
+A spasm convulsed Stratton's face, and he ground his teeth as if in
+agony.
+
+"I can't help it, lad; I'm being cruel to be kind.  Now, then, do you
+persist in sending me away!"
+
+Stratton looked round in a furtive, frightened way, shuddered, and was
+silent.
+
+"Then I am to go and send others who will treat you.  I must tell you
+the truth, lad; they may insist upon your leaving here and taking up
+your abode somewhere in the country."
+
+Stratton started.
+
+"No, no; not at a madhouse.  You are not mad.  Only suffering from a
+nervous fit.  It would be to stay for a time at some doctor's, and I
+think it would be the best thing.  It would get you away from the dull,
+gloomy chambers, where you hardly ever see the sun.  They are bad enough
+to upset anyone.  Once more, which is it to be?"
+
+Guest had been startled enough before by his friend's acts and ways; his
+conduct now indorsed all prior thoughts of his state.  For, as he rose
+and moved toward the door as if to go, Stratton sprang to him and caught
+his arm.
+
+"I give in," he said huskily.  "You are right.  A little out of order.
+Nerves, I suppose.  But no doctor.  There is no need.  I'll--I'll do
+everything you wish."
+
+"Then you'll come abroad with me?"
+
+"No.  No, I cannot.  I will not."
+
+"Very well, then, I'm not going to see you grow worse before my eyes.  I
+shall do as I said."
+
+"No, no, for Heaven's sake, don't be so mad as to do that.  Look here,
+Guest.  I am ill, and weak, and low.  I confess it, but I shall be
+better here.  It is as you say, overstrain.  If you force me to go
+somewhere else, I shall be ten times worse.  I'll do anything you
+advise, yield to you in every way, but I must stay here.  The
+institution, you know."
+
+"Leave of absence for a sick man."
+
+"I could not ask for it.  Besides, my work will do me good.  I should
+mope and be miserable away."
+
+"Not on the Swiss Alps."
+
+"I tell you I will not go," said Stratton fiercely.
+
+"Very well, I'll be satisfied with what you have promised.  So just draw
+up that blind and open the window wide."
+
+Stratton hesitated.
+
+"At once, man.  Your promise.  The air of Benchers' Inn is not
+particularly good; but it's better than this mephitic odour of
+stuffiness and gas.  Why, Mal, old lad, I can smell the methylated
+spirits in which you preserve your specimens quite plainly."
+
+A faint ring of white showed round Stratton's eyes; but Guest did not
+notice it, for his back was turned as he made for the window and let in
+the light and air.
+
+"That's better.  Now go to your bedroom, and make yourself look more
+like the Malcolm Stratton I know.  I'll be off now.  I shall be back at
+a quarter to seven, and then we'll go out and have a bit of dinner
+together."
+
+"No, no; I could not go."
+
+"What!  I'm coming, I say, at a quarter to seven, and then we're going
+out to dine."
+
+"Very well," said Stratton meekly, and his friend left the chambers.
+
+"Only touched a little," said Guest, as he went across the inn, put his
+head in at the lodge, and nodded pleasantly to Mrs Brade, for she was
+engaged with someone else.
+
+"Better, Mrs Brade--nothing to mind.  He'll soon be all right," he
+continued to himself.  "Poor old chap.  Only wants a strong will over
+him.  Wish mine were stronger, and I had a little more manly pluck; but
+he did not see how nervous I was; and, take it altogether, I did not do
+so badly."
+
+What time Stratton was pacing his room and talking hurriedly to himself.
+
+"It is horrible," he muttered; "too much for a man to bear.  Do I look
+so wild?"
+
+He stopped in front of an old Venetian mirror, and scanned his haggard
+countenance for a few moments before turning away with a shudder, to
+resume his walk up and down the room.
+
+"They could do it," he said fiercely.  "I could not help myself.  My
+conduct would be sufficient plea.  A visit from a couple of doctors, and
+no matter what I said, I might be taken away.  Medical supervision," he
+said, with a bitter laugh; "imprisonment till such time as they chose to
+set me free.  Well, it would be pleasant to be able to throw all
+responsibilities upon someone else if one could only cease to think.
+But that would be too terrible.  I must give up everything and trust to
+Guest."
+
+He looked sharply round the room again, and stood listening, for he
+fancied that he heard a sound, and, stepping softly to the panel door on
+the right of the fireplace, he placed his ear to the woodwork, and stood
+listening for some moments.
+
+But he was evidently dissatisfied.  He seemed to be trying to make out
+whether anyone was in Brettison's room but he was listening at the end
+of a passage turned into a closet like his own, and he knew that if the
+door at the other end were closed it was in vain.
+
+He came away at last with a quick gesture indicating his discontent, and
+stood hesitating for a few minutes, when he again started and looked
+wildly toward the fireplace, for he was convinced that he heard sounds
+in the next chambers.
+
+They ceased, though, directly, and might have come from above; but he
+once more went back to the panel on the right, listened, and came away
+dissatisfied still.
+
+"I must know," he said with a heavy sigh; and, taking a bunch of keys
+from his pocket, he stood selecting one which looked black and rusty, a
+good-sized key, from among those which had been worn smooth and remained
+bright.
+
+This done, he stood hesitating; and, looking straight before him, he
+shrank slowly backward till checked by a bookcase standing against the
+wall, when with an angry gesture that he should have been startled by
+the sight of his own ghastly face in the old mirror, he walked straight
+to the door on the left of the fireplace.  Again he paused for a few
+moments, and then, with the sweat standing in great beads upon his brow,
+and the hair at his temples wet and clinging, he slowly, and without a
+sound, inserted the key, turned it in the well oiled lock, and drew open
+the door, which came toward him with a faint creak.
+
+He stood there peering into the darkness of the narrow, passage-like
+place, listening, and then came away to the other side of the room,
+thrust off his boots, and went to the window, which he closed again, and
+drew down the blind before going back to the door--entering, and walking
+to the end, to stand listening at the panel in the darkness for some
+minutes before he came out again, acting now with decision, as he went
+to the door of exit from the room, and slipped the bolt.
+
+Drawing a deep breath, he now hurried across to a little cabinet, from
+which he drew a bright steel implement, and then, with his brow rugged
+and his face looking old and worn, he was hurrying across back to the
+door of the open closet, when he caught his unshod foot in a thick
+Eastern rug, stumbled forward, and only saved himself from a heavy fall
+by throwing himself into an easy-chair.
+
+He rose, holding his left wrist as if it were sprained, and then stooped
+to pick up the steel implement he had dropped on the carpet.
+
+The change which came over the man was terrible as he stopped there,
+fixed of eye, fascinated as it were, and unable to move, glaring at a
+place on the carpet laid bare by the rug being kicked over.  And a
+minute must have elapsed before he could tear himself away and draw
+himself up to hold the back of his hand across his eyes, as if to shut
+out some horrible vision.
+
+The sigh he heaved was hoarse and strange as he dropped his hand again,
+and hurriedly drew the rug back into its former position.
+
+That done, his mental strength seemed to return, and seizing the steel
+tool, he listened for a moment, and then hurried into the dark,
+passage-like closet.
+
+At that moment there was a sharp double knock at the outer door, and,
+active now as a cat, Stratton sprang into the room, listening to faintly
+heard, descending steps.
+
+Then, opening the inner door, he saw that there was a letter in the box,
+and satisfied of the cause of the interruption, he closed and bolted the
+inner door again, and once more crossed to the closet and entered.
+
+Then, from out of the darkness, came sound after sound as if someone was
+busy at work.  Now it was the creaking of a hinge; then a faint rap, as
+of a lid escaping too soon from a person's hand, and after that, for
+quite an hour, the rasping and cracking of wood, till Stratton came out
+bathed with perspiration, and looking more ghastly than ever.
+
+This time he stood wiping the great drops from his dripping brow before
+taking a flask from a shelf, unscrewing the top, and drinking deeply.
+
+He listened again, and once more drawing a deep breath he hurried back
+into the darkness of the closet, where the creaking noise was repeated,
+and followed twice by a deep, booming sound, after which there was a
+long-continued muffled gurgling, as of water flowing, and a peculiar
+odour filled the room.
+
+This was repeated; and at last Stratton reeled out of the place panting,
+staggered to the window, which he opened a little way by passing his
+hands under the blind, and held his face there to breathe the fresh air
+before hurrying-back to his writing table.  Here he struck a match, lit
+a taper, and, taking it up, moved toward the closet door like one in a
+dream, but stopped short, blew out the light, and plunged into the
+darkness once again.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
+
+GUEST SPEAKS OUT.
+
+"Why not a run to Saint Malo and a couple of months' yachting?"
+
+Sir Mark proposed as a cure foreign travel, but Myra refused to go.
+Edie tried vainly to inveigle her into some distraction, and Guest spent
+a little fortune in concert and opera tickets in trying to persuade her
+to accompany them, but they were generally wasted.
+
+Miss Jerrold tried hard, too, and was more successful, coaxing her niece
+to come and stay at her house, or to spend quiet afternoons with her, no
+one else being admitted.  And all the time it was understood that the
+unfortunate engagement was a subject tabooed; but one day, when Myra was
+with her alone, Guest having been there by accident when the cousins
+came--that is to say, by one of his accidents, and at a suggestion from
+Miss Jerrold that a walk would do Edie good, as her face looked "very
+pasty," having taken Edie for the said walk--Miss Jerrold seeing the
+wistful eyes, sunken cheeks, and utter prostration of her niece's face,
+bethought her of a plan to try and revive interest in things mundane, at
+a time when the girl seemed to be slowly dropping out of life.
+
+"We've petted and cosseted her too much," said Aunt Jerrold to herself.
+"I'll try that."
+
+She tried _that_, and attacked her niece in a very blunt, rough way,
+keenly watching the effect of her words the while.
+
+"I do wonder at a girl of your spirit wearing your heart out for the
+sake of a scoundrel.  That's done it!" she added to herself, for a
+complete change came over Myra's aspect.
+
+"Aunt!" she cried indignantly.
+
+"I can't help it, my dear," said the old lady sharply.  "I've kept it
+back too long, and it's only just that I should tell you how
+reprehensible your conduct is.  Here is a wretched man who professes to
+love you--"
+
+"Malcolm Stratton did love me, aunt," said Myra proudly, as stung beyond
+endurance she gave utterance to the thoughts she had kept hidden so
+long.
+
+"Looks like it!" continued Aunt Jerrold.  "Bah! the horsepond is too
+good for such as he!"
+
+Myra turned upon her fiercely.
+
+"Aunt," she cried, "it is not true!"
+
+"But it is true, my dear, or the wretch would have said a few words in
+his defence."
+
+"I cannot stay here and listen to you, aunt," cried Myra, rising with
+dignity.  "It is cruel of you to speak of Mr Stratton like this."
+
+"Oh, of course.  Silly girl!  The worse a man is, the more weak,
+infatuated woman defends him."
+
+"I defend him, aunt, because I am sure there must be some good reasons
+for Mr Stratton's conduct.  He was not the man who could have acted so.
+His whole career gives your charges the lie."
+
+At that moment Edie and Guest returned, the former joyous and bright,
+but forcing a serious look as soon as she saw her cousin's agitated
+face.
+
+"I am waiting for you, Edie," said Myra coldly; and, turning to her
+aunt, she bent her head slightly.  "Good-afternoon, Mr Guest," she
+said, and she left the drawing room.
+
+"Aunt, dear, what is the matter?" whispered Edie.
+
+"We've been quarrelling, my dear; thank goodness!" said Miss Jerrold
+dryly.  "There, good-bye.  Run after her, little woman.  Kiss me; I
+haven't quarrelled with you."
+
+She embraced the girl affectionately; and as Guest followed to the door,
+and held out his hand, Miss Jerrold whispered:
+
+"Come up again when you've seen them to the carriage."
+
+In five minutes Guest was back looking at his hostess wonderingly, for
+the old lady was standing in the middle of the room with her face full
+of wrinkles, and her arms folded across her chest.  She did not seem to
+see him, and he made a slight movement to attract her attention, when
+she waved her hand toward a chair.
+
+"Sit down, boy," she said, without looking in his direction; "I'm
+thinking.  I'll attend to you directly."
+
+He obeyed, more puzzled than ever; and at last she took a chair by the
+back, dragged it across the carpet in a masculine way, and thumped it
+down in front of him.
+
+"It's not a pleasant subject for a lady--an unmarried lady--to talk
+about, Percy Guest," she said; "but I'm getting such an old woman now
+that I think it's time I might speak plainly."
+
+"What about?" said Guest, wondering of what breach of good manners he
+had been guilty.
+
+"What about, you silly boy?  Here's poor Myra eating her heart out, Edie
+miserable, my brother a perfect bear, I'm worried to death, and you say,
+what about!  Malcolm Stratton, to be sure."
+
+"Oh!" cried Guest, very much relieved.
+
+"Well, I do not see anything to look pleased about, sir."
+
+"No, of course not; only I thought I had been doing something."
+
+"You have been doing nothing, it seems to me," said Miss Jerrold
+sharply.
+
+"Really, I have done my best."
+
+"But I thought barristers were such clever people!"
+
+"Oh, dear no," said Guest seriously.  "Very stupid folk as a rule.  Sort
+of gun a barrister is.  The solicitor is the clever man, and he has to
+load the barrister before he goes off."
+
+"Then for goodness' sake get some solicitor to load you, and then go off
+and shoot something."
+
+"I wish you would load me, Miss Jerrold."
+
+"Well, look here, my dear boy.  We seem to have settled down to a belief
+that Malcolm Stratton has been a great scamp, and that he drew back on
+his wedding morning in consequence of the interference of some lady who
+had a hold upon him."
+
+"Yes, that is what we thought," said Guest sadly.
+
+"And then tried to commit suicide out of misery and shame?"
+
+"Yes, I have been able to get no further, poor fellow.  He is utterly
+dumb, as soon as I try to get anything from him."
+
+"What does that friend of his--that Mr Brettison say?"
+
+"Mr Brettison?  I have not seen him."
+
+"Why not?  He has known Mr Stratton many years.  You should have
+consulted him, and tried to find out from him what might have happened
+in days gone by."
+
+"I did think of that."
+
+"And did not act?"
+
+"I have had no chance.  Mr Brettison is out of town.  I have not seen
+him since the wed--"
+
+"Ah!" cried Miss Jerrold warningly.
+
+"Since that unhappy day."
+
+"On that day?"
+
+"No.  It was a day or two before, but I think I heard Stratton say Mr
+Brettison came to see him that day, and that he was going out of town."
+
+"Humph!  That's strange!"
+
+"Why?" said Guest.
+
+"He was very fond of Malcolm Stratton, wasn't he--I mean, isn't he?"
+
+"Yes, of course."
+
+"Why should he go out, on Stratton's wedding day, instead of stopping to
+congratulate him?"
+
+"I don't know.  It was odd, but Mr Brettison is eccentric."
+
+"It's more than odd, Percy Guest," said Miss Jerrold, looking very keen
+and intent; "the clue lies that way.  Mr Brettison must have known
+something and quarrelled with Malcolm Stratton, it seems to me."
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"Yes; his conduct suggests it.  Out of town?  Hasn't he been to his
+chambers since?"
+
+"I think not."
+
+"There's your clue then.  I've loaded you.  Go off."
+
+"And find Mr Brettison?"
+
+"Of course.  Then try and get from him the information we want."
+
+"Do we want that information, Miss Jerrold?"
+
+"Of course we do, sir.  Malcolm Stratton's actions may be purged from
+their grossness, and happiness come after all."
+
+"Heaven grant it may!" cried Guest.
+
+"There, then, you have something sensible to do; better than always
+calling here in your speculative way.  Go to work at once, and come and
+communicate with me."
+
+Guest went off at once, and had himself driven to Benchers' Inn, where
+he ascended to Stratton's door, but turned off to Brettison's, where all
+was dark and silent.
+
+He knocked, but there was no answer; and, after repeating the knock
+several times, he went to Stratton's door, where he had no better
+success.  Going down, he crossed to the tunnel-like archway, where he
+found Mrs Brade, and learned that Mr Brettison had not yet returned
+from the country.
+
+"Mr Stratton does not seem to be at home either."
+
+"No, sir.  He goes out a deal now, and is very seldom at home.  Many
+people come to ask for him, and I give them his message--that they are
+to write."
+
+"Well, that's reasonable enough if they have not made appointments, Mrs
+Brade, so pray don't shake your head like that."
+
+"Certainly not, sir, if you don't wish it, but I can't help thinking
+he'd be better not left alone."
+
+"Why?" said Guest impetuously, Mrs Brade tapped her forehead, and Guest
+frowned angrily.
+
+"Nonsense, my good woman," he cried; "don't exaggerate, and pray don't
+jump at conclusions.  Mr Stratton is no more mad than you are."
+
+"That ain't saying much, mister," cried the porter from the next room,
+where he was making up for late hours consequent upon sitting up for
+occupants of the inn.  "My missus is as mad as a hatter."
+
+Mrs Brade darted to the door and closed it with a heavy bang, following
+it up by snatching, more than drawing the curtain over the opening--a
+curtain originally placed there to keep off draughts, but so used by
+Mrs Brade as to give the onlooker the idea that her husband was a
+personage kept on exhibition, and not shown save as a favour and for
+money paid.
+
+"I don't know what I could be thinking of to marry such a man, sir," she
+said indignantly.  "Mad, indeed!  Not mad enough to take more than's
+good for me, and pretty often, too."
+
+"A lesson for you, Mrs Brade," said Guest sternly, "You cannot make a
+more painful or dangerous assertion about a person than to say that a
+person or personage is mad."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
+
+WALKING IN THE DARK.
+
+Disappointed in his visit to the inn, Guest went back to his own
+chambers, where his first act on reaching his room, with its lookout
+over the old rookery, was to take out his pocketbook, and carefully
+examine a photograph--a proof intrusted to his care that day--and which
+he instantly pressed to his lips several times before restoring it to
+its envelope, and returning it to his breast.
+
+His next proceeding was to light his pipe, lie back, and think over Miss
+Jerrold's words; and the more he thought over them the more they seemed
+to fit with the situation.
+
+One thought begat another till he grew startled at the growth emanating
+from Miss Jerrold's suggestion.
+
+Stratton had always been greatly attached to him, he knew, but he did
+not always confide in him; he had a way of being extremely reticent,
+especially over money matters, and he recalled a little upset they had
+once had about a time when Stratton was hard pressed to get his rent
+ready and had raised the money in what he (Guest) had dubbed a
+disreputable way--that is to say, he had borrowed from "a relative"
+instead of from his friend.
+
+"The old lady's right," mused Guest, after a long period of thinking,
+during which his ideas seemed to ripen.  "Mr Brettison must know, and
+depend upon it, he, being such a particular, high-souled man, was angry
+with Stratton, and would not come to the wedding.  Of course; I remember
+now, Stratton did say that morning that Brettison was off, out
+collecting.  Now, how to find out where he has gone."
+
+No idea came, for Brettison was one of the most erratic and enthusiastic
+of beings.  Being very wealthy, and living in the simplest way, money
+was no object; and he would go off anywhere, and at any cost, to obtain
+a few simple and rare plants for his herbarium.  As Guest mused over the
+matter, he recollected that Stratton said something about the south; but
+whether it was south of England, France, or Italy, he could not
+remember.
+
+"Might be the South Pole," he muttered pettishly.  "Fancy that old chap
+having nothing better to do with his money than spend it over weeds!"
+
+"Now, if I had half," he said, after refilling his pipe, "I could go to
+the old admiral and say--Oh, what a fool I am!"
+
+But somehow that idea about Brettison and his money seemed to pervade
+his brain for the next few days, and to be mixed up with Stratton and
+his troubles.  He recollected the money lying in crisp banknotes upon
+the table, and recalled that it was a heavy sum.  That was an entirely
+fresh view to take; could Stratton have borrowed that money from
+Brettison?  Likely enough, and that might have caused the estrangement.
+People did not like lending money.  They would offer to do so, but when
+the demand was made they were a little bitter.
+
+"`Neither a borrower nor a lender be,'" muttered Guest, quoting from his
+favourite author, and then adding, "if you can help it."
+
+"Bah!  That upsets the idea of the lady in the case," he muttered
+impatiently.  "What a fool I am!  As if it was likely that poor old Mal
+would try to make his quietus with a bare bodkin--modernised into a
+six-shooter--because old Brettison was huffed at his borrowing money.  I
+must pump it out of the poor fellow somehow."
+
+That evening he went to Stratton's chambers, but could get no reply; and
+he waited about on the stairs till, growing uneasy and suspicious once
+more, he knocked again, and listened at the letter slit.
+
+Just then he heard steps, and the occupant of the upstairs chambers
+ascended to the landing.
+
+"How do?" he said.  "Mr Stratton's out.  I met him on the Embankment
+not half an hour ago."
+
+That swept away the black, mental cobwebs once more for a time about
+Guest's brain, and he went away relieved--but not before writing his
+intention of dropping in about ten that night, and thrusting his card in
+at the slit--to dine at his club, after which he went into the library
+to read up some old legal cases, and think about Edie.
+
+He was punctual to the time appointed in Benchers' Inn, but there was no
+light in Stratton's window, none in Brettison's, and he waited till
+eleven in the expectation of seeing his friend come back.
+
+At the above hour he became convinced that Stratton had returned early
+and gone to bed, so he went to his own chambers vexed and irritated,
+after dropping another card into the letter-box, making an appointment
+for the next evening at seven.
+
+"Take him out for a bit of dinner.  He seems to be very busy just now,
+or else he is behaving very sensibly and taking exercise to get back his
+strength."
+
+Guest went to Benchers' Inn the next evening at seven, but the outer
+door was closed, and after waiting for some time he went off to his club
+and wrote a letter begging Stratton to make an appointment to see him.
+
+Next day glided by and there was no reply.  The chambers were still
+closed, and the Brades had not seen their occupant; neither had Mr
+Brettison come back.
+
+Guest made light of the matter, and then went and called on the admiral,
+who promptly begged him to stay to dinner, but the young man refused,
+glanced at Edie, and stayed.
+
+This delayed the visit which he had intended to pay Miss Jerrold, but he
+went to her on the following day to report his ill success, and then to
+the great institution where his friend ruled over the natural history
+specimens.
+
+To his surprise Stratton was not there, one of the officials informing
+him that his chief had taken a month's vacation to recover his health.
+
+"He seemed so broken down, sir, by study, that the committee suggested
+it."
+
+"And never said a word to me," thought Guest.  "Well, the man who says
+poor old Mal is mad is a fool, but he certainly does act very queerly.
+Never mind.  He'll come all right in time."
+
+More days glided by, and Guest became alarmed, for he could get no
+tidings of Stratton.  The chambers were always closed, and no notice was
+taken of the letters; so he went to Bourne Square on business--he made a
+point of going there on business whenever he could--and was shown into
+the drawing room, where Myra greeted him very kindly, though he noted a
+peculiar, anxious, inquiring look in her eyes two or three times before
+she rose and left the room.
+
+"Now, Mr Guest," said Edie as soon as they were alone, "you have
+something to communicate?"
+
+"Something I want to say, but don't be quite so businesslike."
+
+"I must," she said sharply.  "Now tell me: something from--about Mr
+Stratton."
+
+He told her of his ill success, and she frowned.
+
+"We don't want his name mentioned here, and we take not the slightest
+interest in him; but as you are interested, and as news, of course you
+can tell me anything.  But isn't his conduct very strange?"
+
+"More than strange."
+
+"And you can't find Mr Brettison either?"
+
+"No; but I'm not surprised at that.  He's collecting chickweed and
+`grundsel,' as Mrs Brade calls it, somewhere.  But I shall be glad when
+he comes back."
+
+Edie sat thoughtfully for a few minutes.
+
+"You see, directly you cannot get to see him because his doors are shut
+you begin to think something is wrong."
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"And that's absurd, Percy--Mr Guest."
+
+"No; no; don't take it back again like that," he pleaded.
+
+"Mr Guest," she said emphatically.  "Now look here: he must come to his
+chambers sometimes, because he would want his letters."
+
+"Possibly," said the visitor coldly, for that formal "Mr Guest" annoyed
+him.
+
+"And he communicates with the people at the institution."
+
+"Yes, but he has given them no fresh address."
+
+"Then naturally they write to his chambers, and Mal--this man gets his
+letters from time to time.  There's nothing shocking the matter.  He is
+avoiding you, and wants to break off the intimacy."
+
+"Then he is not going to," said Guest with spirit.  "I'm afraid he has
+done something wrong some time."
+
+"Indeed?" said Edie, with her eyes twinkling.
+
+"I mean, men do."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"I have, lots of times."
+
+Edie grew a little more stately--a hard task, for she was too _petite_
+to look dignified.
+
+"I don't mean anything bad," said Guest hastily; "and if old Mal thinks
+he is going to get rid of me he's mistaken.  I'm not a woman, to throw a
+fellow over because he's had some trouble in the past.  I forgive him
+whatever it is."
+
+"I suppose wicked people find it easy to forgive other sinners?" said
+Edie demurely.
+
+"Of course.  Poor old lad!" said Guest thoughtfully; "I wonder what he
+did do."
+
+"I'd rather not discuss such matters, if you please, Mr Guest," said
+Edie coldly.
+
+"Oh, very well, Miss Perrin.  I thought I could come to you for help and
+counsel as a very dear friend, if as nothing else, and, now I want your
+help, you back out."
+
+"No, I don't--Percy."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+Only that interjection, but it meant so much in words--and acts, one of
+which resulted in the fair young girl pointing to the chair from which
+Guest had risen, and saying, with a little flush in her cheeks:
+
+"Suppose somebody had come into the room.  Sit down, please, Mr Guest."
+
+He obeyed.
+
+"Now come; help me," he said.  "We must forgive poor old Malcolm,
+whatever it is; and one of these days perhaps, someone else will."
+
+"No, never: that is impossible."
+
+"But what can he have done?"
+
+"I don't know, unless he has been married before, and killed his wife so
+as to get married again."
+
+Guest looked at her in horror, and she turned scarlet.
+
+"I--I beg your pardon," she stammered.  "I did not mean that."
+
+"No," said Guest dryly.  "I should think not."
+
+Farther conversation was stayed by the entrance of Myra, looking rapt
+and strange, as if in a dream.  She did not seem to notice them, but
+walked across to the window, and, as she went, Guest was shocked by the
+alteration in her aspect.  It was as if she had lately risen from a bed
+of sickness, while that which struck him most was the weary, piteous
+aspect of her eyes.
+
+As she turned them upon him at last it was in a questioning way, which
+he interpreted to mean, "I am dying for news of him, but it is
+impossible for me to ask;" and a curious feeling of resentment rose
+within him against Stratton, for he felt that he had literally wrecked,
+the life of as true a woman as ever breathed.
+
+A faint smile dawned upon her lips, and she glanced from him to Edie and
+back--a look which made the crimson on Edie's cheeks grow deeper, as the
+girl said quickly:
+
+"Mr Guest came to tell me how hard he is trying to get some news, and
+what he has done."
+
+"News!" cried Myra excitedly, and her hands were raised toward their
+visitor, but she let them drop to her sides as her brows contracted.
+
+"He has been telling me that he has--"
+
+"Where is papa--has he come back?" said Myra, coldly ignoring her
+cousin's proffered information, and a few minutes later Guest shook
+hands and went away.
+
+"Her pride keeps her silent," he said thoughtfully.  "No wonder, but
+she'd give the world to hear the least bit of news.  Poor girl!  She'd
+forgive him almost anything.  I must, and will, find it all out before
+I've done."
+
+But the days grew into weeks, and Guest's visits to Bourne Square were
+always barren of news, save that he was able to announce that Stratton
+certainly did go to his chambers now and then.  This he found out from
+the porter's wife, who bitterly bewailed the state into which they were
+falling.
+
+"You may shake your head at me, Mr Guest," she said, "and it's our
+secret, for not a word shall ever leave my lips, but let me ask you, is
+it in the behaviour of a gentleman as has got all his change--"
+
+"Got all his--Oh, I see, you mean his senses."
+
+"Why, of course, sir, to keep his rooms shut up as he does, and never a
+duster or a brush put inside the door."
+
+"He is afraid of his specimens being disturbed, Mrs Brade."
+
+"Oh, dear, no, sir.  It never was his way.  I'd got used to his manners
+and customs--we understood each other, and if I lifted up a bottle or a
+specimen, whether it was a bird or only a bone, down it went in the same
+place again, so exact that you couldn't tell it had been moved."
+
+"But Mr Brettison does the same, Mrs Brade."
+
+"Him, sir?" said the woman contemptuously; "that's different.  One knows
+he's a little bit queer.  It's nothing new for him to be away months
+together, and then come back loaded with rubbidge."
+
+"When did you say Mr Stratton came here last?"
+
+"Four days ago, sir, and I went after him, and begged and prayed of him,
+with a pail and broom in my hand, to let me do him up, but he only
+pynted downward like a man in a play; and there's his place going to
+rack and ruin."
+
+"Next time he comes, Mrs Brade," said Guest, slipping a sovereign into
+her hand, "send your husband on to me directly and try and keep Mr
+Stratton till he comes back."
+
+"That I will, sir," she cried eagerly; and she kept her word over and
+over again, but to Guest's intense chagrin always too late.
+
+"Just comes in quickly, sir, runs up to his rooms and gets his letters,
+and goes out the other way."
+
+This occurred till Guest grew damped, then angry, then damped again;
+but, in spite of his disheartened state, he manfully resumed his search,
+for whenever he was disposed to give it up as what he called a bad job,
+he was forced on by Edie with the greatest eagerness--"to save _her_
+life."
+
+There was a time when Guest thought of getting professional help, but a
+strange dread of something terrible being wrong kept him back from this,
+and he spent every spare hour in seeking for his friend in every resort,
+but all in vain.  Still he heard of him again and again, and of his
+calling at the institution, where he had a fresh release from duty
+granted him for a month; and feeling that he was bound to run against
+his friend sooner or later, Guest relaxed his efforts, and the very next
+day caught sight of Stratton in a cab, followed it till it turned down
+one of the Strand _culs-de-sac_, saw him alight at a great house
+overlooking the river and pay the cabman; and then followed him in, and
+up a great winding stone staircase to a door on the upper floor.
+
+"She lives there," thought Guest with a feeling of rage in his breast,
+and, running lightly up the last few steps, he crept unobserved behind
+Stratton, and laid a hand upon his shoulder just as he was thrusting a
+latchkey into the lock.
+
+Stratton gave a violent start, but did not turn round.  He only uttered
+a low sigh.
+
+"Very well," he said.  "I have been expecting you for weeks."
+
+"Stratton!" cried Guest reproachfully, and his friend turned slowly
+round so haggard and aged a countenance that Guest was startled.
+
+"You?" said Stratton, with a curious, dazed look around, as if for
+someone else whom he had expected to see there.
+
+"I thought--I thought--" He paused, and then after an interval: "Well,
+you have found me.  What do you want?"
+
+Guest did not reply for the moment, but looked sharply from his friend
+to the door and back.
+
+"There is someone in there!" he said to himself; "and for Myra's sake I
+will know the truth."
+
+Then aloud:
+
+"Take me into your room; we can't talk here."
+
+Stratton made a quick movement before the door as if to keep him back.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
+
+ARCH PLOTTERS.
+
+Stratton opened the door without a word.  Guest followed him in, to find
+himself in a plainly furnished sitting room, beyond which seemed to be
+the bedroom, while the two windows looked out westward over the Thames.
+
+There was no sign of feminine occupation, and Guest felt staggered.
+
+"Well," said Stratton bitterly, "you do not answer me.  What do you
+want?"
+
+"You to be the same fellow I always knew.  Why have you come here?"
+
+"You are inquisitorial, but I'll answer: Because it suits me.  My rooms
+yonder are dark and depressing.  I am ill, and want to sit here and
+breathe the fresh air and think.  Is there anything wonderful in that?"
+
+"No; but you need not play hide-and-seek with your friends."
+
+"I have no friends," said Stratton coldly.  "I am not the first man who
+ever took to a solitary life.  It suits my whim.  Now, please go and
+leave me to myself."
+
+"Very well," said Guest, after a momentary hesitation; and he rose.
+"You have no friends?" he said.
+
+"None."
+
+"Well, I have," said Guest.  "You are one of them, and you'll tell me
+I'm right some day."
+
+Stratton did not take the hand extended to him, and Guest went out by no
+means disconcerted, but contented and pleased with his day's work.
+
+"Something to tell Edie," he said to himself joyously; and he hurried up
+to the admiral's to communicate his news.
+
+"That's a step forward," the girl cried eagerly; "now you must go on.
+Persevere."
+
+"I will," he said, catching her enthusiasm.
+
+"Don't let him drive you away."
+
+"Indeed I will not," cried Guest, "only you might let me hold your
+hands."
+
+"Stuff; they are quite safe."
+
+"For me?" he whispered passionately.
+
+"Percy Guest, do you know the meaning of the word _taboo_?  Yes, I see
+you do by your sour look."
+
+"Not sour, Edie--disappointed."
+
+"Because you are selfish, sir.  All we have to do in this life is to
+study others."
+
+"Oh!  Is it?" he protested.
+
+"Yes, and I now vow, swear, and declare that I will never even think of
+being happy myself till I can see Myra herself again; so now you know
+what to expect."
+
+"Oh, very well," he said with a dissatisfied look.  "But look here,
+Edie, if I don't turn up some day you'll know what it means."
+
+"That you will be found at your chambers with a pistol in your hand?"
+said Edie contemptuously.
+
+"Do you think I should be such an idiot?" he cried indignantly.
+
+The look she gave him made peace, and at last Guest rose to go, looking
+very thoughtful.
+
+"Yes!" cried Edie, watching him merrily.
+
+"I didn't know I spoke," he said, "but I was thinking that the way to
+put matters straight again would be to bring them together somehow."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" said Edie sarcastically; but Guest was too intent upon his
+thoughts to notice her manner, and he went on dreamily:
+
+"Of course, Stratton could not come here now."
+
+"I should not advise him to do so while uncle's about."
+
+"No, of course not," continued Guest.  "But I was thinking whether it
+would be possible for Myra to go, of course with you, and--perhaps I
+could arrange it--catch him at his chambers.  He would explain
+everything to her, I'm sure, and you see perhaps after all it may not be
+so bad."
+
+"Oh, no, perhaps not," said Edie, with a sneering intonation which
+escaped Guest in his infatuation over his new idea for serving two
+people whom he esteemed.  Then, unable to control herself, she burst out
+with: "Oh, how can people be so stupid?  As if it were possible that
+Myra could ever speak to such a man again."
+
+It gradually dawned upon Guest that he had made a terrible blunder, and
+he went back to his chambers snubbed and fully determined never more to
+risk his position with Edie by trying to fight his friend's battle and
+piece together the broken fibres of the suddenly disruptured skein.
+
+He was no little surprised, then, some weeks later, after dining at the
+admiral's and listening to several of the old man's old sea stories, to
+find Edie, upon reaching the drawing room, revive the idea as they sat
+talking together in a low tone, while Myra played, and her father took
+his nap.
+
+"Don't talk about it," he said softly.  "Every man makes a fool of
+himself sometimes.  I suppose I did then."
+
+"There does not seem to be much foolishness in trying to serve others,"
+whispered Edie.
+
+"I say, don't," said Guest in a low tone after gazing wonderingly in his
+companion's face.  "You are laying a trap for me to fall into, and it's
+too bad."
+
+"No, I'm not, Percy," she replied.  "I've thought a great deal since
+about what you said.  I was very indignant then, but now I think quite
+differently."
+
+"You do?"
+
+"Yes.  Why should we study etiquette, and be punctilious when other
+people's life's happiness is concerned?"
+
+"Well, that's what I thought, but you jumped upon me."
+
+"I didn't, sir.  I only said--"
+
+"Enough to make me miserable for days.  That's all."
+
+"Please forgive me, Percy."
+
+"Jump on me again, Edie," he whispered passionately--"ten times, a
+hundred times as hard, so as to ask forgiveness again like that."
+
+"If you are so stupid, I will not say another word."
+
+"Mute as a fish."
+
+"Can't you understand how wretched it must make Myra feel to see other
+people happy?"
+
+"Then you are happy, little one?"
+
+"No, and I never shall be while matters are like this.  Hush, speak low,
+and as if we were talking about pictures and Monday Pops.  Now tell me,
+how does Malcolm seem?"
+
+"More mad and wretched than ever."
+
+"And you can't win his confidence at all?"
+
+"Not a bit.  I go and see him every day, generally at that place of his
+in Sarum Street, though I sometimes catch him at the inn, for he has a
+habit of going there at a certain time, and I found it out."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"He insults me, bullies me, threatens me, says everything he can think
+of to break with me; but I go all the same."
+
+"That's right.  I like men to be faithful to their friends."
+
+"Hah!"  Guest gave vent to a sigh of satisfaction.
+
+"But you can't get him to confide in you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You must be very stupid."
+
+"That's it."
+
+"I am sure I could get him to confide in me."
+
+"You?  Why, you'd win the confidence of a Memnon."
+
+"Don't be silly.  But tell me, Percy--do you think, now, that Malcolm
+Stratton has been very wicked?  I mean, do you think he has married
+anyone else?"
+
+"No," said Guest flatly, "I feel sure he hasn't."
+
+"Then we will have the matter cleared up."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Myra shall go and see him, and ask him why he has treated her so
+badly."
+
+"But it will be such bad form."
+
+"I don't care what it is!  It would be much worse form for us to let the
+poor thing take to her bed and die."
+
+"But surely she is not so bad as that," whispered Guest, who felt moved
+by the sob he heard in his companion's throat.
+
+"Worse, worse," whispered Edie.  "You don't see what I do.  You don't
+know what I do.  Breaking hearts are all poets' nonsense, Percy, but
+poor Myra is slowly wasting away from misery and unhappiness.  Uncle
+doesn't see it, but I know, and if something isn't done soon I shall
+have no one left to love."
+
+"Edie!"
+
+"I mean like a sister.  O Percy, I'd rather see her forgive him and
+marry him, however wicked he has been, than live like this."
+
+A few chords in a minor key floated through the drawing room, and Edie
+shivered.
+
+"Tell me," she said after a few minutes, "do you think he acted as he
+did because he didn't love her--because he felt that he couldn't take a
+woman who had been engaged to someone else?"
+
+"I'm sure he loves her with all his heart, and I feel as certain that he
+would not let such a thing stand in his way."
+
+"Then I'm reckless," said Edie excitedly.  "I don't care a bit what the
+world may say.  Myra shall go to him and see him."
+
+"She would not."
+
+"I'll make her, and if uncle kills me for it afterward, well, he must."
+
+"I should like to catch him trying to," said Guest.
+
+"No, no; I don't mean that.  Then what do you think of my plan?" said
+Edie.  "You should come here to fetch us to some exhibition--to see
+something; any evening would do.  We could let them be together for a
+little while and then bring them back."
+
+"Capital!" said Guest; "only isn't that my plan, little one?"
+
+"Oh, what does it matter which of us thought of it?"
+
+"Not a bit," he said, pressing the hand that lay so near him; and a
+little later on, with the understanding that if Myra would consent the
+attempt should be made, Guest left the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY.
+
+AT HER OWN HEART'S BIDDING.
+
+Some time elapsed before the announcement that the consent had been won.
+
+"She wanted to all the while," Edie said; "but her woman's dignity kept
+her back."
+
+The girl was quite right, and it was only in a fit of mad despair that
+Myra had at last agreed in acknowledging the force of her cousin's
+words.
+
+"Percy says he thinks Malcolm is slowly dying, dear, and that your
+coming might save his life."
+
+"I'll go," Myra said, drawing in her breath with a hiss; and then to
+herself, "If he despises me for the act, well, I must bear it, too--
+while I am here."
+
+An evening was fixed, one on which Guest felt sure he would be able to
+catch his friend at the chambers, as being the preferable place, though,
+failing this, there was the lodging in Sarum Street.
+
+There was no occasion for inventing subterfuges.  The admiral that night
+dined at the club, and he troubled himself so little about the comings
+and goings of his daughter and niece that, if he returned, he would only
+consider that they had gone to some "at home," and retire to his bed.
+
+The consequence was that the carriage was in waiting at eight, and Guest
+arrived to act as guide.
+
+"Strikes me, William," said Andrews, the butler, to the attendant
+footman, "that our young lady would be doing more what's right if she
+stopped at home."
+
+"Ay, she do look bad, sir."
+
+"She does, William," said Andrew, with a little stress on the "does."
+
+"Twice over me and you has made preparations to have her married, and it
+strikes me that the next time we have to do with any public proceedings
+it will be to take her to her long home."
+
+"They're a-coming down, Mr Andrews," whispered the footman as, in
+evening dress and cloak, Guest brought down Myra, looking very white in
+her mufflings, and as if she were in some dream.
+
+Guest handed her into the carriage, and returned for Edie, who was
+flushed and agitated.
+
+"You won't think any the worse of me for this, Percy, will you?" she
+whispered.
+
+His reply was a tender pressure of the little hand which rested upon his
+arm.
+
+Matters having been intrusted to Guest he directed the coachman to draw
+up beside the old court in Counsel Lane, and upon the footman opening
+the door, and the ladies being handed out, he looked at them in wonder,
+and asked his fellow-servant what game he thought was up as the trio
+passed into a gloomy looking alley, at whose corner was a robe-maker's
+shop with two barristers' wigs on blocks in the window.
+
+But Guest knew what he was about.  The courts and alleys about Benchers'
+Inn were principally occupied by law writers, printers, and law
+stationers, and deserted enough of an evening to render the passage
+through of a couple of ladies in evening dress a matter likely to cause
+little notice, especially as they might be taking a short cut to one of
+the theatres.
+
+Myra had taken Guest's arm at a whisper from her cousin, who followed
+close behind, and, before long, the young barrister was well aware of
+her agitation and weakness, for, as they reached the upper entrance to
+the inn, she leaned more and more heavily upon his arm, and, after a few
+more paces, clung to him and stopped.
+
+"Tired?" he said gently; "we are nearly there."
+
+She tried to speak, but no words would come; he could feel, though, that
+she was trembling violently, and Edie pressed to her side.
+
+"Courage," she murmured; and her voice seemed to calm Myra, who drew a
+deep breath, and tried to walk firmly the rest of the way; while Edie
+began to hope Stratton would be absent, for she dreaded the scene.
+
+But fate was against her this time.  The meeting she had struggled to
+bring about was to be, for Guest turned to her and whispered over his
+shoulder:
+
+"There is a light in his room; he is at home."
+
+There was not a soul visible as they crossed the little, silent,
+ill-paved courtyard, with its few flickering gas lamps and the buildings
+around standing up blank and bare, for the most part solitary and
+deserted looking, for hardly a blind showed a light behind.
+
+Half-way along by the railings, beneath the great plane trees, a man was
+standing; and, as he took a step out into the light of the nearest lamp,
+Guest felt that Myra was ready to drop.  But a whispered word or two
+roused her to make the last effort, and the next minute they were in the
+doorway; with the stone stairs looking dim and strange, visible where
+they stood, but gradually fading into the darkness above.
+
+Guest stopped short in obedience to a pressure upon his arm, and Myra
+supported herself by grasping the great wooden balustrade, while Edie
+uttered a sigh, and their escort began to feel some doubt as to the
+result of their mission, and wonder whether it was wise to have come,
+even going so far as to feel that he should not be sorry if his
+companions drew back.
+
+Just then Edie whispered a few words to her cousin, who seemed to be
+spurred by them to fresh exertion, and, bearing hard upon Guest's arm
+once more, she ascended the silent staircase to the first floor, where
+Guest led them a little aside into Brettison's entry, while he went to
+reconnoitre.
+
+All was dark, apparently, and he began to be in doubt as to whether
+Stratton really was there, when, to his great delight, he found that
+fate had favoured their visit, for the outer door was ajar, and, drawing
+it back, he stepped inside, to find the inner door only just thrust to,
+while, after opening it a little way, he could see Stratton seated at
+his writing table with his face resting upon his hands.
+
+The lamp was before him, with the shade thrust on one side, so that the
+light was cast toward the window, and his face and hands were in
+darkness; and so motionless did he seem that Guest concluded that he
+must be asleep.
+
+Guest gave a sharp look round, but the room was too dim for much to be
+seen.  It did not, however, by that light appear to be neglected.
+
+There was an angular look in Stratton's attitude which startled Guest,
+and made him step forward with his heart beating heavily.  The
+unfastened door was terribly suggestive of the entrance of a man who
+hardly knew what he was doing, and he now saw that a hat was lying on
+the floor as if it had fallen from the table.  In an ordinary way such
+ideas would not have occurred to him, but he had twice over visited that
+room, and been startled by matters which had suggested Stratton's
+intention of doing away with his life.
+
+All this made Guest walk quickly up behind his friend's chair, and his
+hand was raised to touch him, but he drew back, for a sigh, long-drawn
+and piteous, broke the silence of the dim room--such a sigh as escapes
+from a sleeping child lying exhausted after some passionate burst of
+temper.
+
+Guest, too, drew a long breath as he crept away softly, looking over his
+shoulder till he reached the doors, through which he passed, and hurried
+over the few steps along the landing to where Myra and Edie stood
+shivering in the cold, dark entry leading to Brettison's chambers.
+
+"Oh, how long you have been," whispered Edie, to whom Myra was clinging.
+
+"Come, Mrs Barron," said Guest, without heeding the remark, as he took
+Myra's hand, which struck cold through her glove, and drew it through
+his arm.
+
+"Wait there, Edie."
+
+The girl uttered a faint ejaculation, but said nothing, and Myra walked
+silently to Stratton's door, and as Guest raised his hand to draw it
+toward him she pressed it back.
+
+"Wait," she said in a hoarse whisper.  "My brain seems to swim.  Mr
+Guest, let me think for a moment of what I am going to do before it is
+too late."
+
+Guest waited, half supporting her, for she hung heavily upon his arm,
+but she did not speak.
+
+"I will tell you," he said gently; "you are going like some good angel
+to solace a man dying of misery and despair.  I do not know the cause of
+all this, but I do know that Malcolm Stratton, who has always been as a
+brother to me, loves you with all his heart."
+
+"Yes--yes," whispered Myra excitedly.
+
+"And that some terrible event--some sudden blow, caused him to act as he
+did on his wedding morning.  Myra Jerrold," he continued solemnly,
+"knowing Malcolm as I do, I feel that he must have held back for your
+sake, taking all the burden of his shame upon him so that you should not
+suffer."
+
+"Yes," she said in her low, excited whisper; "that is what I have been
+feeling all these weary, weary days.  It is that thought which has
+sustained me, and made me ready to sacrifice so much--pride, position,
+the opinion of my friends--in coming here like this."
+
+"Your cousin is here," said Guest quickly.  "We shall not leave."
+
+"No, you will not leave me," she said, holding his arm with both her
+hands.
+
+"Now, be firm," whispered Guest, "and think of why you have come."
+
+"To forgive him," she said slowly.
+
+"I believe there is nothing to forgive," said Guest warmly.  "No: you
+come as his good angel to ask him by his love for you to be open and
+frank, and tell you why he has acted thus.  He will not speak to me, his
+oldest friend: he cannot refuse you.  But mind," he continued earnestly,
+"it must not be told you under the bond of secrecy; he must tell you
+truly, and leave it to us afterward to decide what is best to be done."
+
+"Yes," she said, speaking more firmly now, "I understand.  I have come
+to help the man who was to have been my husband, in his sore time of
+trial.  The feeling of shame, degradation, and shrinking has passed
+away.  Percy Guest, I am strong now, and I know.  It is no shameless
+stooping on my part: I ought to have come to him before."
+
+"God bless you for that, Myra!" he whispered earnestly, and he bent down
+and kissed her hands.  As he raised his head he found that Edie had
+crept forward, and was looking at him wildly from out of her little
+fur-edged hood.
+
+For the moment Guest thought nothing of all this, but at a sign from
+Myra drew open the outer door, and she stood in the dimly lit entry as
+if framed; she let her hood fall back, and gazed straight before her
+into the quaintly furnished room as if wondering that she did not at
+once see the object of her thoughts.
+
+Then they saw her take a couple steps forward, and, as if from habit,
+thrust to the inner door, shutting in the scene beyond, and leaving
+Guest and Edie in the gloom of the landing.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
+
+FROM HOPE TO FEAR.
+
+For a few moments nothing was said, and Guest paid no heed to his
+companion, but stood bent forward listening for some exclamation of
+surprise uttered by Stratton, or a word from Myra.
+
+But all was silent as the grave, and, with his pulses increasing the
+rapidity of their beats, he gazed at the faint, narrow streak of light,
+almost within reach of his hand, where the edge of the inner door was
+within a quarter of an inch of the jamb.
+
+"Ought I to have let her go in alone?" he asked himself.  "Ought I not
+to have sent in Edie, too--is there any risk?"
+
+Then, quick as lightning, followed thought after thought as to the peril
+to which, through his and Edie's scheming, Myra might be exposed; and he
+saw himself afterward face to face with father and aunt, bearing the
+brunt of their reproaches for what now began to seem a wild escapade.
+
+He was brought back to himself in the midst of the semi-darkness by a
+low, catching sigh, and he turned sharply round to see behind him, as in
+another frame, the outlined figure of Edie.  He took a step toward her
+quickly, but she drew back right to the great balustrade of the landing,
+and supported herself against it.
+
+"Edie," he whispered, trying to take her hand; but she repulsed him, and
+turned her back to look down the opening to the hall.
+
+"Edie," he said again quickly; and this time he caught her hand.
+
+"Don't touch me!" she said in a low, passionate whisper.
+
+"Nonsense, dear!  There is no danger, I think.  We must not stay here
+listening: it would be so unfair.  Come and stand in Mr Brettison's
+passage.  You will be out of the draught and cold."
+
+"Don't touch me, I say," she whispered angrily; and she drew her hand
+from his grasp with a sharp snatch.
+
+"Don't be foolish," he said excitedly.  "Come along here."
+
+"No--no--no."
+
+"But, Edie, dear!"
+
+"How dare you!" she cried quite aloud.
+
+"Edie!  Can you not trust me?" he said reproachfully.  "It was for your
+sake I spoke.  People may be coming up or going down.  Let's go back to
+Mr Brettison's door."
+
+"No," she said hoarsely; "I will stay here."
+
+"But there is no need," he said gently.  "I know what you feel in your
+anxiety about Myra; but really there is no need.  Come."
+
+He tried to take her hand again, but she recoiled from him so suddenly
+that her little hood fell back, and, dim though the staircase landing
+was, he could see the bright little face before him convulsed with
+anger, and that her eyes literally flashed.
+
+"Edie!" he whispered, "how can you be so foolish!  I tell you I will
+answer for Myra's safety there with my life if you like."
+
+"Myra!" she said in an angry whisper; "do you think I was considering
+her?  I--oh, it is too much.  How could I be so mad and stupid as to--as
+to--come!"
+
+Guest gazed at her wonderingly.  At first he merely attributed her
+actions to her anxiety on her cousin's behalf, but her words
+contradicted that; and, utterly astounded, he stammered out:
+
+"Edie--speak to me--have I offended you?  What have I done?"
+
+"Oh, nothing.  It is I who have been foolish," she said hysterically.
+"Girls are so silly sometimes."
+
+"Then there is something," he said eagerly.  "I have offended you.
+Edie, dear, pray tell me."
+
+He took hold of her unwilling hand and, in spite of her effort, drew it
+through his arm, and led her toward the short passage in which
+Brettison's door was placed.
+
+"You don't answer me," he whispered as they reached the spot where she
+and her cousin had waited only a short time before, and his love for her
+speaking now warmly in the tone of his voice.  "Edie, dearest, I would
+suffer anything sooner than give you pain.  Forgive me if I have done
+anything; forgive me, too, for speaking out so plainly at a time like
+this, but I do love you, darling, indeed--indeed."
+
+As he spoke he raised her hand passionately, and yet reverently, to his
+lips, and the next moment he would have pressed it warmly, but the kiss
+was upon vacancy, for the hand was sharply snatched away.
+
+"It is all false!" cried Edie in a low, angry voice.  "I do not believe
+a word."
+
+"Edie!" he whispered reproachfully.
+
+"Do you think I am blind?  Do you think because I am so young that I am
+a child?"
+
+"I--I don't know what you mean," he faltered, utterly taken aback by the
+silent vehemence of the passion displayed by the quivering little lady
+before him.
+
+"It is not true.  You are deceiving me.  You, too, whom I did think
+honest and true.  But you are all alike, and I _was_ mad to come--no, I
+was not, for I'm very glad I did, if it was only to learn that you are
+as full of duplicity as your friend."
+
+"Am I?  Well, I suppose so, Edie, if you think so," he said dismally.
+"But we came here to try and get out of a fog--I've got farther in.  I
+didn't know I was such a bad one, though, and you might be fair to me
+and explain.  Come," he cried, changing his manner, and speaking out in
+a frank, manly way, "this is not like you, little woman.  If it's to
+tease me and keep me at a distance because we are alone here in the dark
+it is not needed, Edie, for God knows that if a man ever loved a woman,
+I do you."
+
+"What!" she cried; "and act toward Myra as I saw just now?"
+
+"Toward Myra?"
+
+"Yes; I know she's a hundred times nicer than I am, but I did think--I
+did think--O Percy, how could you kiss her hand like that?"
+
+He caught her to his breast as she broke down into a fit of sobbing, and
+held her there.
+
+"O Edie," he said, "you silly, blind little thing!  Why, I never even
+thought--oh, but go on--go on," he whispered; "I am so glad--jealous of
+me like that!  Then you do love me dearly, and you can't deny it now."
+
+Edie made little effort to escape from the close encircling arms which
+held her tightly, fluttering like a bird; none to deny Guest's charge.
+It was very lonely and dark upon that staircase, and in another moment
+she would have been shrinking from her companion's kisses; but, moved by
+the same impulse, they sprang apart, for from Stratton's room a wild,
+appealing cry broke the silence of the echoing stairs.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.
+
+A WOMAN WOOS--IN VAIN.
+
+"No, no, don't come with me," whispered Guest as he sprang toward
+Stratton's room, but Edie paid no heed to his words, and was close
+behind him as he passed through first one and then the other door,
+drawing back, though, the next moment to close them both.
+
+A few minutes before when Myra had performed the same action she had
+stood gazing before her at the figure seated at the table; and the
+attitude of dejection, the abject misery and despair it conveyed to her
+mind, swept away all compunction.  Every thought of her visit being
+unmaidenly, and opposed to her duty toward herself and those who loved
+her, was forgotten.  Her hands were involuntarily raised toward him, and
+she stood there with her lips apart, her head thrown back, and her eyes
+half-closed and swimming with tenderness as her very being seemed to
+breathe out the one word--"Come!"
+
+But Stratton might have been dead for all the change that took place by
+that dimly lit table.  He did not stir; and at last, seeing that he must
+be suffering terribly, and, taking the thought closely to her breast
+that it was for her sake, she moved forward slowly, almost gliding to
+the back of his chair, to stand there looking down yearningly upon him
+till her bosom heaved with a long, deep sigh, and raising her hands
+toward him once more she laid them tenderly upon his head.
+
+"Malcolm!"
+
+The effect of that touch was electric.  With one bound Stratton leapt
+from his chair toward the fireplace, and there stood at bay, as it were,
+before the door of the closet, gazing at her wildly for a few moments,
+as if at some unreal thing.  Then his hands went to his brow, and the
+intensity of his gaze increased till, as she took one step toward him
+with extended arms, the wild look in his haggard face changed to one of
+intense joy.
+
+"Myra!" he cried, and the next moment he had clasped her in his arms.
+
+For the moment it was a different man from the wretched being who had
+crept back to his rooms heartsick and despairing, while, after shrinking
+from him with the reserve begotten of the doubt and misery which had
+been her portion for so long past, the warm clasp of his arms, the
+tender, passionate words he uttered, and the loving caresses of his
+hands as he drew her face closer and closer to his swept away all
+memories of his lapse, and of the world and its ways.  He had held her
+to his throbbing breast--he, the man to whom her heart had first
+expanded two years before--and she knew no more, thought no more of
+anything but the supreme joy that he loved her dearly still.
+
+Brief pleasure.  She saw his eyes gazing passionately into hers, full of
+the newly found delight, and then they contracted, his brow grew rugged,
+and, with a hoarse sigh, he shrank from her embrace, looked wildly
+round, and then, with a shudder, whispered:
+
+"You here--here!  Here?  It is you?--it is no dream; but why--why have
+you come?  It is too horrible."
+
+"Malcolm!" she cried piteously.
+
+"Don't--don't speak to me--don't look at me with those appealing eyes.
+I cannot bear it.  Pray--pray go."
+
+"Go?" she said, raising her hand to his arm, "when I have at all costs
+come to you like this!"
+
+"Yes, yes, go--at once," he cried, and he shrank from her as if in
+horror.
+
+"Malcolm--dearest!" she moaned; "you shrink from me.  What have I done?"
+
+He was silent in the terrible struggle going on within his breast.
+
+"You do not speak," she whispered, as if in dread that her words should
+reach the ears of those without.  "You cannot be so cruel as to cast me
+off for the past.  I did not know then, dear--I was a mere girl--I
+accepted him heart-whole.  It was my father's and his wish; do not blame
+me for that."
+
+He turned from her as if to avoid her eyes, and her voice grew more
+piteous as she crept close to him and stood with her hand raised to lay
+it upon his arm, but dreading to touch him again after his cold rebuff.
+
+"I tell you, dear, I did not know then--I believed you cared for Edie."
+
+"I?  Never!" he cried, turning to her for the moment.  "Why do you
+revive all that?"
+
+"Because you are so cruel to me--so cold, Malcolm, I must speak now.
+You have made me reckless--ready to brave the whole world's contempt, my
+father's anger, for the sake of him who first taught me what it was to
+love.  I tell you I must speak now, and I come to you humble and
+suppliant--the woman you would have made your wife.  It was too cruel,
+but I forgive you, dear.  Let all that be as if it had never happened."
+
+He groaned, and covered his face with his hands.
+
+"Speak to me, dearest," she murmured; and, emboldened by his sorrowful
+manner, she clasped one of his arms with both her hands, and laid her
+cheek against it as she spoke.  "Speak to me and tell me, too, that you
+forgive me all that sad time of my life.  I tell you again I never loved
+him.  Our marriage was the merest form, and I came back from the church
+wishing that my last hour had come.  I know now; you need not tell me,
+dear--you shrank from me at the last; but you did not know my heart,
+Malcolm--you could not see how its every pulsation was for you.  I lay
+it bare before you now, Malcolm--husband.  I claim you, dear.  I cannot
+live on like this, my own, my own."
+
+She had crept closer and closer as she spoke, her hands had risen to his
+shoulder, and, after trembling there for a few moments, they clasped his
+neck, and she buried her face in his breast, sobbing as if her heart
+would break.
+
+Then her tears seemed to freeze in their source, and she shrank away
+horrified and chilled by his manner; for he thrust her from him with an
+angry gesture, and his face was convulsed as he made as if to rush from
+the room.
+
+But he turned back to her, and she sank upon her knees before him.
+
+"Malcolm," she said gently, "am I so loathsome in your sight?"
+
+"No, no," he groaned, and he tore at his throat as if something choked
+him.  "For Heaven's sake, go.  Myra, I am not master of my actions.  If
+you stay I shall forget all but that you are here."
+
+She started to her feet in horror and alarm at his words, and his looks
+seemed to endorse their truth, but a calm smile came upon her lips, and
+she went to him again.
+
+"I know," she said tenderly.  "They have told me all that.  You have
+been ill and delirious.  Well, who should be your nurse and comforter?
+Malcolm--come to me again.  My father will listen to my prayers, and all
+the past shall be forgotten.  Take me with you away somewhere till you
+are well again.  Only tell me now that you have forgiven me--that I am
+to be your wife, Malcolm--my own."
+
+A spasm of horror convulsed his face again, and he shrank from her when
+she would have once more laid her head upon his breast.
+
+"No; you do not know; you cannot know," he whispered hoarsely.  "Myra,
+there is a gulf between us that can never more be crossed.  Go, dearest,
+for Heaven's sake, and try and forget that I ever said words of love."
+
+She looked at him in wonder more than dread, but the prime object of her
+mission came now to mind.
+
+"No," she said; "your mind is disordered with grief.  I cannot leave you
+like this.  Tell me, I beg, Malcolm: you do repel me because of my
+past?"
+
+"No--no!" he said wildly.  "For that?  Great Heavens, no!"
+
+"Then you must--you shall tell me."
+
+"Tell you?" he cried.
+
+"Yes: what you have kept back from your firmest friend.  It must be some
+terrible trouble--some great agony of spirit--that should induce you to
+raise your hand against your own life."
+
+"They told you that!" he said bitterly.
+
+"Yes: they were obliged.  But the reason, dear?  Did you not tell me I
+should share your very being--that I should be your other self?
+Malcolm, tell me.  I claim it as my right.  Why are you like this?"
+
+He caught her hands fiercely, and held her at arm's length.
+
+"Tell you?" he said; "that you may loathe as well as hate.  Myra, in the
+horror of the long black nights since I saw you last I have clung to the
+hope that, some time in the future, repentance, sorrow for what was
+thrust upon me, might be sufficient penance for the past; but it is all
+one black cloud of despair before me.  There is no hope.  You and I must
+never meet again.  Go, while I can speak to you the words of a sane man,
+before that which they have thought of me becomes true.  For Heaven's
+sake, go.  God have mercy; my punishment is greater than I can bear."
+
+He reeled, and would have fallen heavily, but Myra held on to the hands
+which clutched hers so fiercely; and, as a wild appeal for help escaped
+her lips, she saved him from striking his head violently as he sank
+insensible to the floor.
+
+"What is it?" cried Guest excitedly.
+
+She told him in a few words, and he ran into the other room for water,
+but Stratton was already coming to, and after drinking with avidity from
+the glass Guest held to his lips, he rose shuddering and pale.
+
+"Take her home," he said in a husky whisper as he rose.  "Quick.  It is
+too horrible.  Weak and faint, I cannot bear it."
+
+He motioned toward the door, and Guest turned a look full of perplexity
+toward Myra.
+
+"No," she said firmly.  "Edie, dear, stay with me.  Mr Guest, go to my
+father at once and tell him I am here with him who is to be my dear
+husband, who is sick almost unto death.  Tell him to come at once with a
+doctor and a nurse."
+
+As she spoke a look of joy shot across Stratton's face, and he took a
+step toward her with outstretched hands, where she stood between him and
+the door beside the fireplace.  Then, all at once, his face changed, and
+they thought him mad.
+
+"No," he cried fiercely; "it is impossible."
+
+He ran across, and flung open both inner and outer doors.
+
+"Take them," he whispered fiercely--"take them back, man, or it will be
+too late.  You will make me what you think."
+
+Myra would have stayed even then, in spite of Edie's hands trying to
+drag her away; but, as she turned yearningly to Stratton, he shrank away
+with such a despairing look of horror that she yielded herself to
+Guest's strong arm, and suffered him to lead her back, half insensible,
+to the carriage, into a corner of which she sank with a low moan, while
+all the way home the beat of the horses feet and the rattle of the
+wheels upon the pavement seemed to form themselves with terrible
+iteration into the words she had heard fall from Stratton's lips, and
+she shuddered as now, for the first time, she gave them with a terrible
+significance:
+
+"My punishment is greater than I can bear."
+
+She grew more and more prostrate as they neared home, and was so weak
+that she could hardly walk up the steps into the hall, but she recovered
+a little, and, holding tightly by Guest's and Edie's arms, ascended
+slowly to the drawing room, to find that the butler had hurried up
+before them, and that Sir Mark had returned, and was coming to meet them
+on the landing, startled by the man's words:
+
+"Miss Myra has come home, sir, very ill."
+
+The admiral would have sent off for medical help, but Myra insisted that
+she was better; and as she began to recover herself the old man asked
+eagerly:
+
+"Where was it--at a theatre?"
+
+A dead silence fell upon the group, and Guest gave Edie a look of agony
+as the thought occurred to him: "He will forbid me his house now."
+
+"Well," cried Sir Mark testily, for he had reached home early consequent
+upon a few monitory twinges, which he dare not slight, "are you all
+deaf?"
+
+"I will tell you, dear," said Myra, taking her father's hand and
+pressing it beneath her cheek.  "Don't be angry with anybody but me, and
+try and remember that I am no longer a girl, but a suffering woman, full
+of grief and pain."
+
+"My poor darling!" he whispered, bending down to kiss her.  "But tell
+me--were you taken ill at the theatre?  Why, what does it mean?"
+
+"I could bear it no longer, father," said Myra slowly.  "I have been to
+see Malcolm Stratton."
+
+"What?"
+
+"To ask him to explain."
+
+"You--you have been to see that scoundrel--that--"
+
+"Hush, dear!  He was to have been my husband."
+
+"And you--you actually went to see him--at his rooms?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Sir Mark wiped his forehead, and looked fiercely from one to the other,
+as if hardly believing his child's avowal to be true.
+
+"I could not go on like this.  It was killing me, dear."
+
+"And--and you asked him to explain his cursed conduct?"
+
+"I asked him to explain."
+
+"And--and--what--what?" panted the old man furiously.
+
+"No; he did not explain, dear," said Myra, drawing her father's arm
+about her neck, and raising herself a little from the couch so as to
+nestle on his breast.  "It is fate, dear.  I am never to leave you now.
+Keep me, dear, and protect me.  It is not his fault.  Something terrible
+has happened to him--something he could not own to, even to me--who was
+to have been his wife."
+
+"Edie--Guest--help!" panted the admiral.  "Myra, my darling!  She's
+dying!"
+
+"No, no, dear," she said, with a low moan, as she clung to him more
+tightly, "a little faint--that's all.  Ah! hold me to you, dear," she
+sighed almost in a whisper.  "Safe--with you."
+
+And then to herself:
+
+"He said his punishment was greater than he could bear.  Malcolm, my
+own--my own!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
+
+A HORRIBLE SUGGESTION.
+
+Only a few frowns from the admiral and a severe shake of the head over
+their wine a day or two later, as, in obedience to a summons more than
+an invitation, Guest dined with him and his sister, Edie having her
+dinner with her cousin in Myra's room.
+
+"I felt as if I ought to say a deal to you, young man," growled the
+admiral; "but poor Myra has given me my orders, and I must be mum.  Take
+some more wine."
+
+Guest took some more claret with pleasure, and thought that the subject
+was to be changed, but it was not, for Sir Mark suddenly turned to him:
+
+"I say: look here, my lad," he said.  "This Stratton: is he mad?"
+
+"No," said Guest sharply: "certainly not."
+
+"Then what the deuce is the matter with him?"
+
+"That's what I'm going to find out, Sir Mark."
+
+But the days went by, and Guest appeared to get no farther, save only
+that Stratton, in a despairing way, ceased to resent his friend's
+determination to be with him.  He even went so far, one evening in his
+room in Sarum Street, as to show some return of his old confidence, for
+he tossed a letter across the table.
+
+"Read that," he said.
+
+Guest took it, and saw that it was from the governors of the great
+institution, suggesting that Stratton should resign his post for a
+twelvemonth, and go away on half salary to recoup his health.
+
+"Humph!  Can't say I'm surprised," said Guest.  "Have you written?"
+
+"Yes, and resigned entirely."
+
+"Where's the letter?" said Guest eagerly.  "Gone?"
+
+"No; it is here."
+
+"Let's look."
+
+Stratton handed him the letter, and Guest tore it up.
+
+"Write that you accept their considerate proposal."
+
+"I cannot."
+
+"But you shall."
+
+"If I wrote so, I should feel bound to leave town."
+
+"Very good.  I'll go with you--to the South Pole if you like."
+
+"I shall never leave London," said Stratton gravely.
+
+"Then stop here and get well.  Write."
+
+The weaker will obeyed the stronger, and, with a sigh of satisfaction,
+Guest pocketed the letter to post.
+
+"By the way," he said, "I came through the inn to-night on the chance of
+finding you there."
+
+Stratton's face grew stony.
+
+"And old Mother Brade got hold of me to practice her tongue upon."
+
+Stratton was silent, and sat gazing straight before him.
+
+"Hadn't you better let the old woman have a general clean up?"
+
+"I pay the rent of those chambers," said Stratton almost fiercely, "to
+do with them as I please.  No!"
+
+"All right; tell her to go to Jericho, then.  But look here, she was
+asking me about Mr Brettison."
+
+Stratton's countenance changed a little, either from excitement or
+interest in his friend's words.
+
+"Isn't it strange that he doesn't come back?"
+
+"I don't know.  No.  He is peculiar in his ways.  Sometimes I have not
+seen him for months together."
+
+"Oh," said Guest quietly; and soon after he left.
+
+It was about a week later that, on going to the inn one evening, Guest
+was caught again by the porter's wife.
+
+"Which I won't keep you a minute, sir, but would you mind answering me
+one question?"
+
+"If I can," said Guest, knocking the ashes from his cigar.
+
+"Then is Mr Stratton coming back soon to the inn, sir?"
+
+"I can't tell you, Mrs Brade."
+
+"Then can you tell me where Mr Brettison is, sir?"
+
+"That's two questions, Mrs Brade."
+
+"Well, yes, sir, it is; but if you only knew the agony I suffer from the
+thought of those two sets of chambers being allowed to go to rack and
+ruin, you'd pity me."
+
+"Well, it does seem tiresome to any lady of orderly mind, of course."
+
+"It's 'orrid, sir.  There's the dust, and the soot falling down the
+chimbleys without a bit of fire, and the mice, and, for aught I know,
+the rats.  Really, sir, there are times when I almost wish the chambers
+was empty, that I do."
+
+"Well, have patience, Mrs Brade," said Guest.  "I think I can see an
+improvement in Mr Stratton, and I hope soon to get him to come back--
+but I don't know when it's likely to be," he muttered as he crossed the
+square on the chance of seeing a light in his friend's window, and this
+time it was there.
+
+He hurried up to find, after knocking several times, that Stratton had
+evidently only just come, for he was standing there in overcoat and hat,
+and he would have stepped out at once had not Guest shown so decided an
+intention of coming in.
+
+"Do you want me?" said Stratton uneasily; and Guest's heart sank, for
+his friend looked more careworn than ever.
+
+"Yes," he said; "I wanted to talk to you about something particular."
+
+"Yes--what?" said Stratton sharply.
+
+"Surely you were not coming away, and about to leave that lamp burning?"
+
+"Was I going to leave the lamp burning?" said Stratton absently.  "I
+suppose I forgot."
+
+"Well, don't do that, then.  This house is so full of wood that if it
+caught fire it would burn like tinder."
+
+"You think so?" said Stratton with a curious look in his eyes.
+
+"That I do.  In half an hour there wouldn't be one of your preparations
+left.  They, your furniture, the _bric-a-brac_, and your specimens in
+spirits, would be consumed and in ashes in no time."
+
+The strange look in Stratton's eyes intensified, but Guest did not
+notice it, nor yet that his companion was letting his eyes wander around
+the old carved panelling with its oaken architraves and heavy plinths
+and mouldings.
+
+For Guest was intent upon his own thoughts.
+
+"Look here," he said suddenly; "about Brettison?"
+
+Stratton turned upon him uneasily.
+
+"This is a rum world, Mal, old fellow."
+
+"What do you mean?" said Stratton.
+
+"Only this: Brettison's rich--a man worth a good deal, and men of that
+stamp generally have people who take a good deal of notice of them."
+
+"Naturally," said Stratton, with a curious laugh.
+
+"Suppose, then, he has come to grief.  I mean, suppose some gang have
+got hold of him on his way back here and made an end of him."
+
+"Absurd!" said Stratton, with a curious laugh.  "Nonsense!"
+
+"Such things have been done.  When did he go out?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"Don't be huffy with your devoted servant, Mal.  Tell me this--has he
+been back since--er--that day?"
+
+"Perhaps.  I don't know.  He is a man who goes in and out as silently as
+a cat."
+
+"But he used to come in and see you often?"
+
+Stratton coughed to clear a huskiness from his throat.
+
+"Yes; but he has not been to see me lately," he said hurriedly.  "I am
+going home now."
+
+"This is home, man."
+
+Stratton suppressed a shudder, and Guest pitied him as he thought of two
+attempts made upon his life.
+
+"It is too gloomy--too depressing for me."
+
+"Give up the chambers, then, and take some more pleasant ones."
+
+"No, no; I should not care about the trouble of moving.  I am used to
+them, too."
+
+He laid his hand upon the lamp, and Guest was obliged to take the hint
+and rise to go.
+
+"That's right," he said; "put the lamp out safe.  This is an ugly old
+place, but it would be horrible if the place were burned down."
+
+"Yes--horrible--horrible!" said Stratton, with a shudder.
+
+"Much more horrible if anyone slept in the place, eh?"
+
+"If anybody slept in the place?" said Stratton with a ghastly look.
+
+"Yes--lodgers.  There is somebody upstairs on the second floor, isn't
+there?"
+
+"Yes," said Stratton huskily, "but only in the day time."  He withdrew
+his hand from the lamp, and looked round, to Guest's great delight; for
+he was taking an evident interest in the topic his friend had started,
+and his eyes roved from object to object in the room.
+
+"Work of a good many years' saving and collecting here, old chap, eh?"
+
+"Yes; of many, many years," said Stratton thoughtfully.
+
+"And all your bits of antique furniture, too.  Mustn't have a fire here,
+old fellow.  I say," he continued, tapping a glass jar in which a kind
+of lizard was suspended in spirits, "I suppose if this grew hot the
+stopper would be blown out, and the spirit would blaze all over the
+floor in a moment?"
+
+Stratton's eyes contracted strangely as he nodded and watched his
+friend.
+
+"Yes," he said, "that is so."
+
+"And you've got dozens of similar bottles about.  Let's see, you've got
+something in your bathroom too."
+
+Stratton made no reply, but stood gazing away from his friend.
+
+"Wits wandering again," thought Guest.  "Never mind, I did get him a
+little more like himself."  Then aloud:
+
+"I say, Mal."
+
+Stratton turned upon him sharply.
+
+"Wouldn't do to have a fire; why, you'd burn up poor old Brettison too."
+
+Stratton's face looked as if it had been carved in stone.
+
+"Such a collection, too, as he has spent years of his life in getting
+together."
+
+"Come away, now," said Stratton hoarsely, as he raised his hand once
+more to turn out the lamp.
+
+"Yes; all right.  No; stop!" cried Guest excitedly.  Stratton smiled,
+and his hand remained as if fixed in the air.
+
+"I have it," continued Guest.
+
+Stratton did not speak, but remained there with his fingers close to the
+button of the lamp, as if fixed in that position by his friend's words.
+
+"Look here, old fellow," cried Guest excitedly.  "History does repeat
+itself."
+
+"What--what do you mean?"
+
+"How long is it since poor old Brettison had that terrible illness?"
+
+"I don't know--years; come away."
+
+"Wait a moment.  Well, he was lying helpless, dying, and you suspected
+something was wrong, broke open the old man's door, found him
+insensible, and nursed him back to life."
+
+Stratton did not stir, but stood bent over the table, listening to his
+friend's words.
+
+"Suppose he has come back unknown to you--as he often did--and gone in
+there.  He is old.  He may be lying there now.  Mal, old chap, this
+place sends quite a chill through me.  How do we know but what just on
+the other side yonder somebody may be lying dead?" and he pointed toward
+the closet door.
+
+"Ah!"
+
+No literary sign can give the exact sound of the hoarse sigh which
+escaped from Stratton as his friend said those last words excitedly: and
+then, as if spurred by his imagination:
+
+"It's as likely as can be.  Mal, old fellow, as I said before, history
+does repeat itself.  He has been missing a long time.  Mrs Brade is
+very uneasy.  You have been a great deal away.  I tell you what it is--
+it's an act of duty.  I'll fetch up the police, and we'll break in and
+see."
+
+As the words left Guest's lips he started, for there was a sudden flash;
+then, for a moment, his eyes were dazzled; the next he was in profound
+darkness.
+
+Stratton's fingers, unseen by his friend, had closed upon and turned the
+button of the lamp.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.
+
+A STARTLING SITUATION.
+
+Three steps back were sufficient--three steps taken suddenly in that
+profound darkness were enough, in the excitement of the moment, to make
+Guest completely lose what a nautical man would call "his bearings;"
+and, startled, as well as puzzled, he waited, in utter ignorance of his
+position in the room, for what was to come next.
+
+Time and again he had been uneasy, even startled, by his friend's
+actions, feeling that there was a certain amount of mental aberration.
+He had felt, too, that it was quite possible that in some sudden
+paroxysm, when galled by his dictation, Stratton might strike at him,
+but until now he had never known absolute fear.
+
+For, manly and reckless as he was as a rule, he could not conceal from
+himself that Stratton was, after all, dangerous.  That turning out of
+the light had been intentional; there must have been an object in view,
+and, in his tremor of nerve, Guest could think of no other aim than that
+of making a sudden attack upon one who had become irksome to him.
+
+They were quite alone in that solitary place.  If he called for help, no
+one would hear, and he might be struck down and killed.  Stratton, in
+his madness, might find some means of hiding his body, and--what then?
+Edie--poor little Edie, with her bright ways and merry, teasing smiles?
+He would never see her again; and she, too, poor little one, would be
+heart-broken, till some luckier fellow came along to make her happy.
+
+"No, I'll be hanged if he shall," thought Guest, as a culmination to the
+rapid rush of thought that flashed through his brain.  "Poor old
+Stratton is really as mad as a hatter; but, even if he has such
+thoughts, I've as good a chance as he has in the dark, and I'll die
+hard.  Bah! who's going to die?  Where's the window, or the door?  Here,
+this is a nice game, Mal," he said aloud, quite firmly.  "Where are your
+matches?"
+
+But, as he spoke, he made a couple of rapid steps silently, to his
+right, with outstretched hands, so as to conceal his position from
+Stratton in the event of the latter meditating an attack--an event which
+Guest would not now allow.
+
+There was no reply, and Guest stood listening for a few moments before
+speaking again.
+
+"Do you hear?" he said.  "You shouldn't have been in such a hurry.  Open
+the door, or I shall be upsetting some of your treasures."
+
+Half angry with himself for his cowardice, as he called it, he repeated
+his monologue and listened; but he could only hear the throbbings of his
+own heart.
+
+"Well, of all the ways of getting rid of an unwelcome guest--no joke
+meant, old man--this is about the shadiest.  Here," he cried, more
+excitedly now, in spite of his efforts to be calm, "why don't you
+speak?"
+
+He did not step aside now, but stood firm, with his fists clenched,
+ready to strike out with all his might in case of attack, though even
+then he was fighting hard to force down the rising dread, and declaring
+to himself that he was a mere child to be frightened at being in the
+dark.
+
+But he knew that he had good cause.  Utter darkness is a horror of
+itself when the confusion of being helpless and in total ignorance of
+one's position is superadded.  Nature plays strange pranks then with
+one's mental faculties, even as she does with a traveller in some dense
+fog, or the unfortunate who finds himself "bushed," or lost in the
+primeval forest, far from help and with the balance of his mind upset.
+He learns at such a time that his boasted strength of nerve is very
+small indeed, and that the bravest and strongest man may succumb to a
+dread that makes him as timid as a child.
+
+Small as was the space in which he stood, and easy as it would have
+been, after a little calm reflection, to find door or window, Guest felt
+that he was rapidly losing his balance; for he dare not stir, face to
+face as he was with the dread that Stratton really was mad, and that in
+his cunning he had seized this opportunity for ridding himself of one
+who must seem to him like a keeper always on the watch to thwart him.
+
+He remained there silent, the cold sweat breaking out all over his face,
+and his hearing strained to catch the sound of the slightest movement,
+or even the heavy breathing of the man waiting for an opportunity to
+strike him down.
+
+For it was in vain to try and combat this feeling.  He could find no
+other explanation in his confused mental state.  That must be Stratton's
+intention, and the only thing to do was to be on the alert and master
+him when the time for the great struggle came.
+
+There were moments, as Guest stood there breathing as softly as he
+could, when he felt that this horrible suspense must have been going on
+for hours; and, as he looked round, the blackness seemed to be full of
+strange, gliding points of light, which he was ready to think must be
+Stratton's eyes, till common-sense told him that it was all fancy.
+Then, too, he felt certain that he could hear rapid movements and his
+enemy approaching him, but the sounds were made by his own pulses;
+otherwise all was still as death.  And at the mental suggestion of death
+his horror grew more terrible than he could bear.  He grew faint and
+giddy, and made a snatch in the air as if to save himself.
+
+The sensation passed off as quickly as it came, but in those brief
+moments Guest felt how narrow was the division between sanity and its
+reverse, and in a dread greater now than that of an attack by Stratton,
+he set his teeth, drew himself up, and forcing himself to grasp the fact
+that all this was only the result of a minute or two in the darkness, he
+craned forward his neck in the direction of where he believed Stratton
+to be, and listened.
+
+Not a breath; not a sound.
+
+There was a clock on the mantelpiece, and he tried to hear its calm,
+gentle tick, but gave that up on the instant, feeling sure that it must
+have been neglected and left unwound, and nerving himself now, he spoke
+out sharply:
+
+"Look here, Mal, old fellow, don't play the fool.  Either open the door,
+or strike a light, before I smash something valuable."
+
+There was no reply, but the effort he had made over himself had somewhat
+restored his balance, and he felt ready to laugh at his childish fears.
+
+"Has he gone, and left me locked in?" he thought, after striving in vain
+to hear a sound.
+
+Improbable; for he had not heard the door open or close, and he would
+have seen the dim light from the staircase.
+
+No, not if Stratton had softly passed through the inner door and closed
+it after him before opening the outer.
+
+"Here, I must act," he said to himself, mentally strung once more.  "He
+couldn't have played me such a fool's prank as that.  Now, where am I?
+The writing table should be straight out there."
+
+He stretched forth his hand cautiously, and touched something which
+moved.  It was a picture in the middle of a panel, hanging by a fine
+wire from the rod, and Guest faced round sharply with a touch of his old
+dread, for he knew now that he had been for long enough standing in a
+position that would give his enemy--if enemy Stratton was--an
+opportunity for striking him down from behind.
+
+With the idea growing upon him that his alarm had all been vain, and
+that Stratton must have gone straight out the moment he had turned down
+the lamp--either in his absent state forgetting his presence, or
+imagining that he had gone on out--Guest felt now a strange kind of
+irritability against himself, and, with the dread completely gone, he
+began to move cautiously, and pausing step by step, till his
+outstretched hands came in contact with a bronze ornament, which fell
+into the fender with a loud clang.
+
+Guest started round once more, knowing exactly where he stood, and
+facing Stratton, who seemed to have sprung out of his seat.
+
+"Who's there?" he cried fiercely.
+
+"Who's there?" retorted Guest.  "Why, what's come to you, man?  Where
+are your lights?  Bah!" he added to himself, "have I lost my head, too?"
+
+As he spoke he drew a little silver case from his vest pocket, and
+struck a wax match, whose bright light showed his friend sunk back in
+the chair by the writing table, gazing wildly in his face.
+
+A glance showed Guest a candle in a little holder on the mantelpiece,
+and applying the match, in another moment the black horror had given
+place to his friend's room, with Stratton looking utterly prostrate, and
+unworthy of a moment's dread.
+
+Guest's words partook of his feeling of annoyance with himself at having
+given his imagination so much play.
+
+"Here, what's come to you, man?" he cried, seizing Stratton roughly by
+the shoulder.
+
+"Come to me?  I--I--don't know."
+
+"Have you been sitting there ever since you put out the light?"
+
+"Yes--I think so."
+
+"But you heard me speak to you?"
+
+"No; I think not.  What did you say?"
+
+"He's trembling like a leaf," thought Guest.  "Worse than I was."
+
+Then aloud:
+
+"I say, you had better have a glass of grog, and then go to bed.  I'll
+stop with you if you like."
+
+"Here?  No, no; come along.  It must be getting late."
+
+He made for the door and opened it, signed to Guest to come, and stood
+waiting.
+
+"All right; but don't leave that candle burning, man.  You seem
+determined to burn down this place."
+
+Stratton uttered a curious little laugh, and hastily crossed the room to
+the mantelpiece, while Guest stood holding the door open, so as to admit
+a little light.
+
+The next minute they were on the landing, and Stratton, with trembling
+fingers, carefully locked the door.
+
+"Now," said Guest, "about poor old Brettison?  What do you say?  Shall
+we give notice to the police?"
+
+"No, no," cried Stratton angrily.  "It is absurd!  He will come back
+some day.  See me home, please, old fellow.  My head--all confused and
+strange.  I want to get back as soon as I can."
+
+Guest took his arm to the entrance of the inn, called a cab, and did not
+leave him till he was safe in his rooms at Sarum Street, after which the
+young barrister returned to his own chambers to think over the events of
+the evening in company with a pipe.
+
+"Takes all the conceit out of a fellow," he mused, "to find what a lot
+of his old childish dread remains when he has grown up.  Why, I felt
+then--Ugh!  I'm ashamed to think of it all.  Poor old Stratton! he
+doesn't know what he's about half his time.  I believe he has got what
+the doctors call softening of the brain.  Strikes me, after to-night's
+work," he added thoughtfully, "that I must have got it, too."
+
+He refilled his pipe and went on thinking.
+
+"How he started, and how strange he seemed when I talked about the
+possibility of the poor old fellow lying there dead.  Only a fancy of
+mine.  How does the old saying go: `Fancy goes a great way'?  There,
+I've had enough fancy for one night."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.
+
+A MODERN INQUISITION.
+
+The next day was a busy one for Guest.  He had to attend court, and in
+the afternoon he stole a visit to Miss Jerrold, where, by "the merest
+chance," he found Edie, who was also there by "the merest chance," but
+they had a long chat about their invalids, as they termed them, and then
+Guest spoke of his ideas respecting Brettison.
+
+"And you sit here talking to me?" she said.  "Why, you ought to be
+having the place searched."
+
+"You think so, too?"
+
+"Of course, and without loss of time.  Why, Percy, he may have known all
+about Malcolm Stratton's trouble, and now the chance has gone forever."
+
+"Steady, steady!" said Guest, smiling at the girl's impetuosity.  "Don't
+let your imagination run away with you.  It's rather bad sometimes."
+
+He left almost directly, and was half disposed to go straight to the
+police-station nearest the inn; but it occurred to him that he had
+stirred Stratton a good deal on the previous night, and that if he could
+get his friend's interest full upon this matter it would be a good
+thing.
+
+"I dare say it will all turn out to be nothing--mere imagination," he
+thought; "but, even if it is, it may do something to get the poor fellow
+out of this morbid state.  After all, Brettison may be there."
+
+But Guest felt so little upon the matter that he did not hurry to his
+friend's rooms till after dinner, and, to his surprise, found that he
+was either not in or obstinately determined not to be interrupted, for
+there was no reply to his knocking.
+
+"I'll get him to let me have a latchkey," he thought, "for he is not fit
+to be left alone."
+
+On the chance of Stratton being there he went on to Benchers' Inn, and,
+to his surprise and satisfaction, he saw a light in the room.
+
+After a few minutes his knock was responded to, and he was admitted.
+
+"You have come again, then," said Stratton reproachfully.
+
+"Of course," replied Guest, and he snatched at the idea again about
+Brettison.  "Look here," he said, "I have made up my mind that the
+proper thing to do is to have that room entered.  Brettison has been
+away months, and it ought to be done."
+
+"But you have no authority," said Stratton uneasily.
+
+"You have, as his nearest friend and neighbour."
+
+"No, no, no," said Stratton uneasily.
+
+"I tell you it's right," said Guest.  "We'll go to the station quietly,
+give notice, and a couple of men will come, and bring a locksmith or
+carpenter to open the door."
+
+"Impossible!  The publicity: it would be horrible."
+
+"If we found the old fellow lying dead there, yes.  But he may not be."
+
+"No, he may not be, so it cannot be done," said Stratton with an
+unwonted animation which made Guest the more eager.
+
+"But it can."
+
+"I say no," said Stratton angrily.
+
+"But I say yes."
+
+"You have no right, no business whatever, to interfere in the matter.  I
+will not have Mr Brettison's place broken open and his things
+disturbed.  It shall not be done."
+
+"Bravo," thought Guest; "a little more argument of this sort would bring
+him round."  And full of determination, right or wrong, to persevere he
+said distinctly:
+
+"Look here, Stratton, have you any special reason for refusing to listen
+to my words?"
+
+"I--I--a reason?" cried Stratton looking startled.  "None whatever."
+
+"Oh!  You seemed so stubborn."
+
+"The natural feeling of a scientific man against intruders meddling with
+his study."
+
+"Mr Brettison made no objection to your breaking in upon him when he
+was dangerously ill and would have died without your help."
+
+Stratton was silenced for the moment, but he broke out directly with:
+
+"But I am sure he has not been back."
+
+"How can you be, away as you have been so long?"
+
+"I should have heard him or seen him.  He would have come in to me."
+
+"Look here, Stratton," said Guest at last, "if you oppose my wishes so
+strongly, I shall think that you have some special reason for it."
+
+Stratton's eyes contracted a little as he looked fixedly at his friend.
+
+"I shall not oppose you, then," he said, after moistening his lips, as
+if speaking was an effort.  "Have the place examined."
+
+"I will," cried Guest eagerly.  "Come on with me to the police-station,
+and let's give information."
+
+Stratton shrank back in his seat.
+
+"No, no.  Speak to the people at the lodge; the man can open the door."
+
+"No; I am not going to have the matter spread abroad.  And I do not
+accept the responsibility.  No hesitation now; come on."
+
+Stratton was so weakened by ill health and nervous shock that, in spite
+of himself, he felt compelled to yield, and ten minutes later they were
+in the cold, formal station, where he felt as if in a dream, held there
+against his will, and listening while Guest told the inspector on duty
+his suspicions as if they were those of his neighbour Stratton, who, of
+course, was not sure, only uneasy, and desirous of quietly learning
+whether, by any possibility, there was something wrong.
+
+"We'll soon see to that, sir," said the inspector quietly, and sending a
+message by a constable, a sergeant was called into the office, the
+matter explained to him, and, after a sharp glance at the two strangers,
+he proposed to call and get Johnson to come with them, as he would be
+home from work and they could pick him up on the way.
+
+The inspector expressed his approval, and then said:
+
+"I hope, gentlemen, you will find it is all a mistake, for your friend's
+sake.  Good-evening."
+
+As soon as they were outside the sergeant turned to them.
+
+"As you want to make no fuss, gentlemen, and would like the matter kept
+quiet, suppose you both go on?  I'll join you in ten minutes with my
+man.  People may notice it, if we all go together."
+
+Guest nodded, and they separated.  Then a cab was called, and Stratton's
+chambers once more reached.
+
+Here the latter grew strangely excited, and began to protest against the
+proceedings.
+
+"Look here," said Guest warmly, "if I had had any doubt about its being
+right, I should go on now."
+
+"Why?" cried Stratton wonderingly.
+
+"Because the excitement of another's trouble or suffering is rousing you
+up, old fellow, and making you seem something like what you were of
+old."
+
+Stratton caught him by the arm, and was about to insist upon the plan
+being given up, when there was a sharp rap at the door, and Guest caught
+up candle and matches and led the way out on to the landing, followed by
+Stratton, who looked as if he were in a dream.
+
+The sergeant was outside with a man of the regular carpenter class, with
+a bag swung over his shoulder by a hammer passed through the handles.
+
+"Here we are, gentlemen," said the police officer.  "Candle?  Shan't
+want it, sir; I have a lantern, and it will be handier.  You wish it all
+to be done quietly, you say, but I'm afraid our friend here will make a
+little noise with his tools.  People downstairs will hear."
+
+"They are only offices below," said Guest.
+
+"Upstairs, then?"
+
+"No one there in the evening."
+
+"That's right then, sir.  Which is the door?"
+
+At a word from Guest, Stratton moved across the landing and turned down
+the passage in which Brettison's doorway stood, moving still in the same
+dreamy fashion, as his friend's will forced him to act, and as they
+reached the doorway the sergeant turned on his lantern, so that the
+light played about the keyhole.
+
+"Now, Jem," he said, "have a look at it.  What do you say?"
+
+The man slouched up, and the shadow of his head, with its closely
+fitting cap, glided about on the door, as he turned from side to side to
+get a good look at the little opening.
+
+"Light more this way, matey," he growled, in an ill-used tone.  "That'll
+do.  Steady, please.  I don't want to look at the 'inges."
+
+"There you are, then.  Well, is it a pick? or a saw-out?"
+
+"Pick," said the man, swinging his bag down on to the floor and opening
+it by drawing out the hammer.
+
+There was a faint jingle as the bag was opened, and its owner looked up
+in a protesting way.
+
+"Can't work if you make a Jacky Lantern game of it, matey.  I want to
+see."
+
+The light of the lantern was directed into the bag, revealing a stock, a
+box of centre bits, a keyhole saw, and a couple of bunches of attenuated
+keys, some of which were merely a steel wire turned at right angles at
+the end.
+
+"Nice, respectable looking character this, gentlemen," said the sergeant
+dryly.  "Supposed to be an honest man; but if a `tec' got hold of him
+with a bag like that he'd have to say a great deal before anyone would
+believe him.  That one do, my lad?"
+
+"No, too big," said the workman huskily, and he began to whistle softly
+as he coolly selected another hook-like skeleton key from his bunch;
+while Guest stood watching the pair with a strange feeling of
+nervousness increasing upon him, caused partly by the weird aspect of
+the scene, with all in darkness save the round patch of light on the old
+drab-painted oaken door, in which glow the fingers of the workman were
+busily engaged, as if they were part of some goblin performance, and
+were quite distinct from any body to which they should have belonged.
+
+He began wondering, too, whether there really was any cause for their
+operations--whether poor old Brettison really did lie dead in the dusty
+room beyond the double doors which held them at bay--dust to dust, the
+mortal frame of the gentle old naturalist slowly decaying into the atoms
+by which he was surrounded; and whether it was not something like
+sacrilege to interfere with so peaceful a repose.
+
+And all the time the little steel pick was probing about among the wards
+of the lock with a curious clicking sound, above which Guest could hear
+the intermittent, harsh breathing of his friend, who watched the
+illuminated door with a stern, fixed gaze.
+
+The second pick was after a time withdrawn.
+
+"No good?" said the sergeant.
+
+"Not a bit," growled the man, and he held his bunch of keys up to the
+glass of the bull's-eye lantern.
+
+"Don't worry, old chap," said the sergeant.  Then, turning to Guest:
+
+"Look a nice, respectable lot, we do, sir," he said.  "If one of your
+neighbours was to see us he'd be slipping off to fetch all the police he
+could find, to see what we were about."
+
+"Wish you'd hold that there light still," growled his follower.  "Who's
+to find a pick with your bobbing it about like that?"
+
+"All right.  Don't get shirty, my lad;" and then, as a fresh pick was
+selected, and the man began operating again, the sergeant placed his
+hand beside his mouth, after directing the light full on the keyhole,
+and whispered to Guest:
+
+"I'm afraid you're right, sir."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"What you thought, sir.  There's somebody lying in there, sure as sure,
+or my mate here wouldn't turn like he has."
+
+"Oh, nonsense!" whispered Guest uneasily.
+
+"No, sir; it's right enough.  He's like a good dog; has a kind of
+feeling when there's something wrong."
+
+"There you go again," growled the operator.  "Keyhole ain't on the
+ceiling, mate, nor yet on the floor."
+
+"Oh, all right."
+
+"But it ain't all right.  I've got only two hands, or I'd hold the
+blessed bulls-eye myself."
+
+"There you are, then; will that do?"
+
+"Do?  Why, of course it will," growled the fellow.  "I don't ask much.
+If you can't hold a lantern, let one of the gentlemen."
+
+"Something's rusty," said the sergeant.
+
+"No, it ain't that," said the man, taking the remark literally.  "Look's
+'ily enough, but it's such a rum un--sort of a double trouble back-fall.
+I don't know what people are about, inventing such stupid locks.
+`Patent,' they calls 'em, and what for?  Only to give a man more
+trouble.  All locks can be opened, if you give your mind to it, whether
+you've got a key or no.  It's only a case of patience.  That's got him!"
+he said exultantly, and a thrill ran through Guest.  "No, it ain't; that
+blessed tumbler's gone down again.  But, as I was a-saying," he
+continued, as he resumed his operations, "a man who knows his business
+can open a lock sooner or later, so why ain't they all made simple and
+ha' done with it?"
+
+"If talking would pick a lock," said the sergeant jocularly, "that one
+would have flown open by now."
+
+"And if chucking the light of a bull's-eye everywheres but how a man
+wants it would ha' done it, we should ha' been inside ten minutes ago.
+Like to have a try yourself, pardner?"
+
+"No, no; go on," said the sergeant sternly; and the man sighed and
+selected a fresh pick, one so slight and small that it seemed to be too
+fragile for the purpose, as it flashed in the light while being
+inserted.
+
+Then ensued a few minutes of clicking and scratching before there came a
+faint click, and a sigh of satisfaction from the workman.
+
+"There you are!" he said, as he drew the door toward him, the paint
+cracking where it had stuck, and a faint creak coming from one hinge,
+while there floated out toward them a puff of dense, thick air,
+suggestive of an ancient sarcophagus and the dust of ages and decay.
+
+Then there was a sharp, scampering noise, and, as Stratton stood peering
+forward into the dark room, where a faint halo of light spread like a
+nimbus about the head of a portrait on the further wall, the workman
+said, half nervously, half as if to keep up his courage:
+
+"Rats!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
+
+A SEARCH FOR THE HORROR.
+
+The sound ceased on the instant as its cause passed through some hole in
+the panelling, and Stratton uttered a low gasping sigh, and caught hold
+of Guest's arm with a grip which felt as if it was the grasp of a
+skeleton.
+
+"Are you faint?" whispered the young barrister.  "Let me take you back
+to your room."
+
+"If the gentleman feels queer, sir, he'd better not go on with it," said
+the sergeant, also in a low voice, as if impressed by the place.  "He
+isn't used to it; we are."
+
+"Yes," said the workman.  "Not our first case, eh, pardner?"
+
+But even he spoke below his breath.
+
+"No, I'll stay," said Stratton more firmly.  "I have been ill, officer,
+and it has left me weak."
+
+"Then don't try it, sir.  You can leave it to us."
+
+"Go on," said Stratton, after drawing a long, gasping breath; "I am
+quite right now."
+
+"Spoken like an Englishman, sir," said the sergeant.  "Party's likeness,
+gents?" he said, as the light shone full on the oil-painting across the
+room; the face of the grey, benevolent-looking man seeming to gaze at
+them reproachfully.
+
+"Yes, my old friend's portrait," said Stratton, with a sigh.
+
+"Better let me go first, sir," said the sergeant, pressing before
+Stratton, who was about to enter, but he was too late.  Stratton took a
+step forward, caught his foot against something, and nearly fell
+headlong into the room.
+
+"Mind my tools, please," growled the workman, stooping to pick up his
+bag, which had lain in the darkness of the opening; and then all stepped
+cautiously into the well-furnished room, which was, in almost every
+respect, a repetition of Stratton's, only reversed, and a good deal
+encumbered with large, open cases full of bulky folios, containing
+series of pressed and dried plants.  These hid a great deal of the
+panelling and carving, save on the right, where, on either side of the
+beautiful old fireplace, were two low doors, formerly the entrances to
+the passages which connected the room with Stratton's when they were
+part of a suite.
+
+Away to the left was another door, matching those by the fireplace--that
+leading into the botanist's bed-chamber; and wherever a space was left
+on the panelling, there was a portrait, in an old tarnished gilt frame,
+of some ancestor, each--dimly seen though it was--as the sergeant made
+the light play round the walls--bearing a striking resemblance to that
+which faced them.
+
+"Looks as if he was watching us," said the workman huskily; and he
+placed a piece of tobacco in his mouth, making Guest start as he closed
+the brass box from which he had extracted it with a loud snap.
+
+"Yes," said the sergeant, in a whisper, as if to himself, and he made
+the light of his bull's-eye play from easy-chair to couch, and then all
+about the floor; "I always wondered how they managed them eyes."
+
+Everything looked in order, with one exception.  The thick Turkey carpet
+and heavy rug were exactly as they had been laid; the fireplace showed
+the coal, wood, and paper neatly laid; and the chairs were all duly
+ranged in their places; but the sergeant's light rested upon the table--
+a heavy, oblong affair, with four massive carven legs--a part of whose
+top was bare, for the thick green cloth cover, with bullion braiding at
+the border, had been half dragged off, and lay in folds from the top to
+floor, only kept from gliding right off by the heavy lamp, and looking
+as if it had been hastily dragged down to cover something by the table,
+or caught by someone's foot when passing hastily to the door.
+
+The sergeant made his light play on the dark folds for a few moments,
+and then jerked it away.
+
+"Do you gentlemen mean to stop?" he said, speaking now a little more
+rapidly.
+
+There was no reply and the man stepped forward to the table, raised one
+corner of the cloth quickly, and then swung it right up and steadily
+lowered it again, while Guest uttered a sigh of relief, for there was
+nothing visible but the heavy legs of the table.
+
+"Enough to deceive any man," said the sergeant, who then stopped and
+listened, walked back, and softly closed both doors.
+
+"May as well be private, gentleman," he said.  "Eh?"
+
+This last to the workman, who had muttered something in a low voice.
+
+"I says I could ha' swore he was there."
+
+"So could I, Jemmy," replied the sergeant, as he made the light play
+round the room again, and let it rest upon the chamber-door.
+
+"There is nothing, you see," said Stratton, rather quickly.
+
+"Haven't done yet, sir," replied the sergeant.  Then, in a low voice to
+Guest--"I'm pretty well used to this sort o' thing, sir, but 'pon my
+soul I feel as if I should like to turn that picture round.  It's just
+as if it was watching me.  There, let's get it over."
+
+The man had, in spite of his being accustomed to scenes of horror,
+seemed as if it were necessary to string himself up.  He had gone to the
+table finally to lift the cover, and that had used up a certain amount
+of nerve force.  He was forced to make a call on nature for a further
+supply.
+
+He strode across to the chamber-door, threw it open, and walked in, the
+others following and standing just inside, as he made the light play
+round a well-furnished bedroom where everything was exactly in its
+place--the bed made, dressing table in perfect order, and a couple of
+cupboards displaying nothing within but sundry clothes hanging from
+pegs.
+
+"Arn't in here," said the sergeant, after a final look round.  "Been no
+struggle--no sign of anyone having been took ill.  Don't like one thing,
+Jem," he added.
+
+"Well," said the man, "if you mean, pardner, that everything looks too
+tidy, and as if things had been straightened up all but the table-kiver,
+that's just what I was a-thinking."
+
+"Right," said the sergeant; "that was the one thing forgotten or left in
+the hurry."
+
+"Oh, no," said Guest quickly.  "I see we have raised a false alarm."
+
+"Maybe, sir," said the sergeant firmly, "but I'm not satisfied yet.
+Let's go back in the other room, please.  I want to know what that
+table-cover means.  Hallo!  What's this?" he said sharply, as he stooped
+down and picked up a piece of composition candle, gnawed nearly all
+away.  "Where's the candlestick?"
+
+"Here," said Guest, pointing to where a little old-fashioned candlestick
+lay by a stand containing folios of dried plants.
+
+"Well, sir, that was knocked down," said the sergeant.
+
+"We are wasting time," said Stratton firmly.  "See if that lock is
+uninjured, my man, so that the door will close."
+
+"Stop a bit, sir, please," said the sergeant; "we haven't done yet."
+
+He stepped at once to the panelled door on the left of the fireplace,
+turned the handle, threw it open, and made his light play in the long,
+deep, narrow closet, one side of which was filled from floor to ceiling
+by a rack laden with books of pressed plants.
+
+"Looks as if it had once been a passage," said the sergeant, "oak panels
+right over the ceiling.  Well, nobody there," he continued, as he backed
+out and closed the door.
+
+"That will do," said Stratton, speaking more firmly now.
+
+"My friend and I made a mistake.  We are much obliged for all you have
+done, and--"
+
+"Not quite done, sir," said the sergeant grimly; and he crossed to the
+other side of the fireplace, took hold of the handle of the closed-up
+door, left to make both sides match, and tried to turn it, but it was
+fast.
+
+Stratton turned ghastly, but he was in the shade.
+
+"No cupboard there," said Guest sharply.
+
+The sergeant turned quickly, and his light flashed across the faces of
+the two friends.  He saw Stratton's wild look, and he tapped on the
+panel.
+
+"No cupboard, sir?  Sounds hollow, too."
+
+Guest caught sight of his friend's face at the same moment, and his
+pulses leaped; a confused mist of memories flooded his brain, and
+something made him keep silence, though, had he been asked, he could not
+have explained why.
+
+"I should say there is a cupboard here," continued the sergeant, turning
+back to examine it.  "Fastened up, but been a cupboard like the other,
+of course."
+
+Guest glanced at Stratton again in the gloom, but he could see nothing
+now, with the light averted, only hear his heavy breathing, which was
+faintly stertorous, as if from exertion.
+
+"Let me see, gentlemen, you live in the next chambers?"
+
+Stratton was silent, while Guest met the officer's eye, and
+involuntarily answered: "Yes."
+
+"Do they back on to there?"
+
+"Yes; part of the old suite," said Guest, answering, as it were, against
+his will.
+
+"I'll trouble you to take me in there for a moment, please," said the
+man decisively.
+
+Stratton drew a deep breath, and without a word led the way out into the
+passage and round to his own door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
+
+RUN TO EARTH.
+
+"What the dickens does it all mean?" thought Guest wonderingly, as he
+followed into Stratton's chambers, with a strange feeling of expectancy
+exciting him.  Something was going to happen, he felt sure, and that
+something would be connected with his friend.  And now he began to
+regret bitterly having urged on the quest.  It had had the effect of
+rousing Stratton for the moment, but he looked horrible now, and Guest
+asked himself again, what did it mean?
+
+The sergeant looked sharply round Stratton's room, and noted where the
+chamber lay; but his attention was at once riveted upon the fireplace
+with its two doors, and he walked to the one on the right, seized the
+handle, and found it fast.
+
+"Yes," he said, "been open once, but closed, I should say, for many
+years."
+
+"Want it opened, pardner?" said his companion.
+
+"Not that one," said the sergeant meaningly; and he went to the door on
+the left, Stratton watching him fixedly the while, and Guest, in turn,
+watching his friend, with a sense of some great trouble looming over
+him, as he wondered what was about to happen.
+
+"Hah! yes," said the sergeant, who began to show no little excitement
+now; "fellow door sealed up, too."
+
+Guest started and glanced quickly at his friend, who remained drawn up,
+silent and stern, as a man would look who was submitting to a scrutiny
+to which he has objected.
+
+The sergeant shook the door, but it was perfectly fast, and the handle
+immovable.
+
+"Some time since there was a way through here," he said confidently;
+and, as he spoke, Guest again gazed at Stratton, and thought of how
+short a time it was since he had been in the habit of going to that
+closet to fetch out soda water, spirits, and cigars.
+
+What did it mean?  What could it mean, and why did not Stratton speak
+out and say: "The closet belongs to this side of the suite."
+
+But no; he was silent and rigid, while the sense of a coming calamity
+loomed broader to mingle with a cloud of regrets.
+
+He was trying to think out some means of retiring from the scrutiny, as
+the sergeant turned to his companion and said a few words in a low
+tone--words which Guest felt certain meant orders to force open the
+closet door, which, for some reason, Stratton had fastened up, when the
+sergeant spoke out:
+
+"Now, gentlemen, please, we'll go back to the other chambers."
+
+Guest drew a deep breath, full of relief, for the tension was, for the
+moment, at an end.
+
+He followed with Stratton, whose eyes now met his; and there was such a
+look of helplessness and despair in the gaze that Guest caught his
+friend's arm.
+
+"What is it, old fellow?" he whispered; but there was no reply, and,
+after closing the door, they followed into Brettison's room, where the
+sergeant stood ready for them with his companion.
+
+As they entered, the man closed the door and said sharply:
+
+"You're right, gentlemen; there has been foul play."
+
+A cold sweat burst out over Guest's brow, and his hair began to cling to
+his temples.  He once more glanced at Stratton, but he did not move a
+muscle; merely stood listening, as if surprised at the man's assertion.
+
+"There have always been two cupboards here, made out of these two old
+passages, and this one has been lately fastened up."
+
+"No, no," said Stratton, in a low, deep tone.
+
+"What, sir!  Look here," cried the man, and he shook one of the great
+panels low down in the door, and the other higher.  "What do you say to
+that?  Both those have been out quite lately."
+
+Stratton bent forward, looking startled, and then stepped close up to
+the door, to see for himself if the man was correct.
+
+The lower panel was certainly loose, and could be shaken about a quarter
+of an inch each way, but that seemed to be all; and looking relieved he
+drew back.
+
+"Nonsense!" he said.  "Absurd!"
+
+Guest looked at him sharply, for the voice seemed to be that of a
+stranger.
+
+"Not very absurd, sir," replied the sergeant.  "This door was made two
+or three hundred years ago, I should say, and the old oak is shrunken
+and worm-eaten.  I could easily shove that panel out, but there's no
+need.  Here, Jem, try and open the lock the regular way."
+
+Stratton's lips parted, but he said no word; and, as the second man
+strode up to the door with his tools, the sergeant went on:
+
+"I thought it was a mare's nest, sir, and even now I don't like to speak
+too fast; but it looks to me as if the poor gentleman had been robbed
+and murdered, and whoever did it has hidden the body in here."
+
+A curious cry escaped from Stratton's lips, and he gazed fiercely at the
+officer.
+
+"That's it, sir," said the man.  "It's a startler for you, I know,
+living so close, but I'm afraid it's true.  Well, Jem, what do you make
+of it?"
+
+Guest looked as if he had received a mental blow, as idea after idea
+flashed through his mind.  Stratton's manner suggested it--his acts of
+late, the disappearance of Brettison on the wedding day, the large sum
+of money on the table, the mad horror and despair of the man ever
+since--it must be so; and he felt that here was the real key to all his
+friend's strange behaviour.
+
+He wiped the cold moisture from his brow, and stared at Stratton, but
+his friend was standing rigid and determined, watching the actions of
+the two men, and Guest had hard work to suppress a groan, as he felt
+that his companion would owe to him the discovery and the punishment
+that would follow.
+
+Just then Stratton turned and saw that he was being watched; but, as if
+all attempts at concealment were hopeless, he smiled faintly at his
+friend and then turned away.
+
+The workman had not made any reply, and the sergeant spoke again as a
+large picklock was thrust into the keyhole again and again.
+
+"Rusted up?"
+
+"Ay, and eaten away; there hasn't been a key used in that lock in our
+time, pardner.  But stop a minute; more ways of killing a cat than
+hanging of her.  Let's have a look."
+
+He began to examine the edge of the door, and then turned sharply round.
+
+"Look here," he said; and then taking hold of the antique door knob, he
+lifted it and the whole of the front bar or rail came away--a piece of
+narrow wood six feet long.
+
+"Split away from the tenons," he said; and the sergeant uttered an
+ejaculation, full of eager satisfaction.
+
+"There, gentleman," he said, pointing.  "One--two--three--four bright
+new screws.  What do you say now?"
+
+There they were plain enough, close to the door frame, and Guest uttered
+a low sigh as he supported himself by the back of a chair.
+
+"Out with 'em, Jem," cried the sergeant excitedly, and, a large
+screw-driver being produced from the tool bag, the screws were attacked,
+and turned easily, the man rapidly withdrawing them and laying them one
+by one on the mantel-shelf.
+
+"They haven't been in very long," he muttered, raising one to his nose.
+"Been rubbed in paraffin candle, I should say."
+
+He began turning another, while the sergeant gave Guest the lantern to
+hold while he went and picked up the piece of candle they had found at
+first.
+
+"Not all teeth marks, gentlemen," he said; "the candle was used to ease
+those screws."
+
+There was a pause then, for the man was at work on the last screw, and
+as he turned, Guest arrived at the course he should pursue.  Stratton
+was ignoring the fact that the closet belonged to his room; he must, for
+his own sake, do the same.  He could not give evidence against his
+friend; for there it was plain enough now, and if Stratton had been
+guilty of Brettison's death, he was being bitterly punished for his
+crime.
+
+The last screw fell on the floor, and was picked up and placed with the
+others.  Then the man stood with his screw-driver in his hand.
+
+"Prize it open?" he said.  The sergeant nodded, and on forcing the edge
+of the screw-driver in the crack between the inner half of the bar and
+the jamb, it acted as a lever, and the door gave with a faint creak, but
+as soon as it was a couple of inches open the man drew back.
+
+"Your job now," he said.
+
+The sergeant stepped forward; Stratton stood firm, as if carved in
+stone, and Guest closed his eyes, feeling sick, and as if the room was
+turning round, till a sharp ejaculation made him open his eyes again to
+see that the sergeant had entered with his lantern, and was making it
+play over the panels of the inner side of the farther door.
+
+"That's the old door leading into the place, I suppose, sir?" he said.
+
+"Yes."
+
+Guest started again, the voice sounded so strange, but he was gaining
+courage, for there was the familiar dark bathroom, viewed from the other
+end, with the cigar box on the shelf close to the door in company with
+the spirit-stand.  Beneath the shelf there were three large four-gallon
+tins, which were unfamiliar, and suggested petroleum or crystal oil;
+there was a mackintosh hung on a peg, looking very suggestive; an
+alpenstock in a corner, with a salmon and trout rod.  Guest saw all this
+at a glance, and his spirits rose, for there was no ghastly scene upon
+which to gaze.
+
+Then his spirits sank to zero again, for there was the oblong of the
+inclosed bath occupying the left of the long, narrow place, and only
+just leaving room for anyone to pass.
+
+He shuddered, and at that moment the sergeant took hold of the edge of
+the mahogany lid to raise it, but without success.
+
+"Fast," muttered the latter; and he held the light to the glistening
+French-polished mahogany cover, looking from place to place.  "Here you
+are, Jem," he said, in a low tone; "four more screws, and only just put
+in."
+
+The other man uttered a low growl, and entered with his screw-driver;
+moistened his hands and the tool creaked on the top of a screw, and then
+entered the cross slit with a loud snap.  The next minute the first
+screw was being withdrawn.
+
+"Pretty badly put in," said the man.  "Didn't have a carpenter here."
+
+He worked away, making the old place vibrate a little with his efforts,
+and to Guest the whole business was horribly suggestive of taking off
+the lid from a coffin; but he was firmer now, as he stood behind
+Stratton, who drew a deep breath, now and then like a heavy sigh, but
+neither stirred from his position by the door they had entered, nor
+spoke.
+
+All at once there was a sharp rap on the lid of the bath, which acted
+like a sounding-board, and the man at work started back in alarm.
+
+"All right, Jem," said the sergeant; "you jarred it down from the
+shelf."
+
+As he spoke he snatched up what he evidently looked upon as evidence;
+for it was a large gimlet, evidently quite new, and its long spiral
+glistened in the light of the lantern.
+
+"Thought somebody throwed it," growled the man, as he resumed his task
+of withdrawing the screws till the last was out, and placed close to the
+bath, on the floor.
+
+"Sure that's all?" said the sergeant.
+
+The man ran his finger along the edge of the bath lid, uttered a grunt,
+and drew back toward the door by which he had entered.
+
+"Lift up the lid, man--lift up the lid," said the sergeant, directing
+the lantern so that the grain of the new-looking wood glistened and
+seemed full of golden and ruddy brown depths of shadow, among which the
+light seemed to play.
+
+"Do you hear?" he said.  "Lift up the lid."
+
+The man made no answer, but ran his hand over his moist forehead, and
+still backed toward the door, where Stratton and Guest were standing.
+Then, as they drew aside to let him pass:
+
+"Precious hot in there," he growled.
+
+"Look here, Jem," said the sergeant; "don't leave a fellow in the lurch.
+Come on."
+
+Thus adjured, the man turned back and held out his hand.
+
+"It ain't my work," he said in a hoarse whisper; "I've done my bit.  But
+I'll hold the light for you, if you like."
+
+The sergeant passed the lantern to his companion, who took it, and so
+reversed its position, the rays from the bull's-eye being directed
+toward the sergeant, and, consequently, Stratton and Guest were in the
+shadow, out of which the latter peered forward with his heart beating
+violently, and as he leaned forward he touched Stratton's arm.
+
+He shuddered and shrank back, being conscious that Stratton grasped the
+reason, for a low sigh escaped him; but he did not stir, and, in spite
+of his feeling of repulsion, Guest felt compelled to press forward again
+to witness the horror about to be unveiled.
+
+"Turn the light more down," whispered the sergeant; and, in spite of the
+low tone in which they were uttered, the words sounded loudly in Guest's
+ears.
+
+"Now for it," muttered the officer; and, as if forcing himself to act,
+he flung up the bath lid so that it struck against the panelled side of
+the place with a sharp rap, and set free a quantity of loose plaster and
+brickwork to fall behind the wainscot with a peculiar, rustling sound
+that sent a shudder through the lookers-on.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.
+
+THE BLIND LEAD.
+
+As that horrible, rustling sound behind the wainscot was heard, the two
+hardened men in the old passage shrank away to door and end, while a
+cold sweat bedewed Guest's face, and his breath felt laboured.  Then
+there was a reaction.  Old memories flashed through his brain, and he
+seized Stratton's arm.
+
+"Old friends," he muttered.  "I can't forsake him now."
+
+The arm he gripped felt rigid and cold, but Stratton made no movement,
+no sign, and at that moment they saw the sergeant flash the light down
+into the sarcophagus-like receptacle; for, thanks to the manufacturers,
+our baths are made as suggestive of a man's last resting-place as they
+can be designed.
+
+There was utter silence then for a moment.  Then the sergeant uttered a
+low whistle and exclaimed:
+
+"Well, I _am_ blessed!"
+
+"Ain't he there?" said the workman, from the door.
+
+"Come and look, Jem."
+
+Jem went in slowly, looked down in the bath, which was lit up by the
+rays from the lantern, and then uttered a low, chuckling sound, while
+Guest tried to make out the meaning of the strange expression, dimly
+seen, on his friend's face.
+
+For Stratton's eyes showed white circles about the irises, as he now
+leaned forward to gaze into the bath.
+
+Guest was the last to look into the white enamelled vessel, one-third
+full of what seemed to be water, but from the peculiar odour which rose
+from the surface, evidently was not.
+
+Stratton was silent; and in the strange exultation he felt on seeing
+that all the horrors he had imagined were vain and empty, Guest shouted:
+
+"Bah!  What cock-and-bull stories you policemen hatch!"
+
+The sergeant, who had been regularly taken aback, recovered himself at
+this.
+
+"Come, sir," he cried; "I like that.  You come to us and say your
+friend's missing, and you think that he is lying dead in his chambers.
+`All right,' we say--"
+
+"Wrong," cried Guest with a laugh, which sounded strange and forced.
+
+"So it is, sir--wrong," said the sergeant.  "We come and do our duty,
+and I follow up the scent as clear as clear, right up to this spot; and
+I put it to you gents, as gentlemen, oughtn't your friend to have been
+murdered and a-lying there?"
+
+"Well," said Guest, with another forced laugh, as he glanced uneasily at
+Stratton; "it did look suspicious, and you worked it all up so
+theatrically that I was a little impressed."
+
+"Theatrical!  Impressed, sir!  Why, it was all as real to me; and I say
+again your friend ought to be lying there.  What do you say, Jem?"
+
+"Cert'nly."
+
+"But he is not," said Guest sharply; "and it has all been a false alarm,
+you see, and I'm very, very glad."
+
+"Course you are, sir, and so are we," said Jem huskily.  "Don't
+'pologise.  Don't make a bit o' diffrens to us.  We're paid all the
+same."
+
+"Of course," cried Guest, keeping up the position of leader, for
+Stratton stood gazing down into the bath like one in a dream.  "There,
+sergeant, we are very much obliged, and it's all right; so your man had
+better screw down the bath lid again."
+
+"But it isn't all right, sir," said the sergeant testily, and he gave
+his ear a scratch.  "I don't like giving up just for a check."
+
+Guest shivered.
+
+"I've got as far as here, and I put it to you; the gentleman ought to
+have been in that thing, and he isn't."
+
+"That's plain enough," said Guest hurriedly.
+
+"Then where is he?"
+
+"In the country, I suppose, collecting."
+
+"That's your opinion, sir.  P'r'aps your friend'll speak.  What do you
+say, sir?"
+
+"Nothing," said Stratton, with an effort.
+
+"There is nothing to say," said Guest sharply.
+
+"Queer for this place to have all been screwed up--both, the door and
+the bath."
+
+"Oh, no; I see why," said Guest quickly.  "Bad smells, perhaps, from the
+waste pipe--sewer gas."
+
+"Don't smell like bad gas," said Jem, sniffing about and ending by
+dipping a finger in the bath, and holding it to his nose, after which he
+gave a peculiar grunt.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Sperrits."
+
+"Nonsense, man!" cried Guest.  "What!  That?"
+
+"That's sperrits, sure enough, sir," said the man, dipping his finger in
+the bath again.  "Open that there lantern, pardner."
+
+The sergeant obeyed, and his companion thrust in his finger, for it to
+be enveloped directly with a bluish flame.
+
+"Mind what you're doing," said the sergeant hastily, "or we shall have
+the whole place a-fire."
+
+"All right, pardner.  Sperrits it is, and, I should say, come in them
+cans."
+
+He gave one of the great tins a tap with his toe, and it sent forth a
+dull, metallic sound.
+
+"Very likely," said Guest.  "Our friend is a naturalist, and uses
+spirits to preserve things in."
+
+"Look ye here," said the workman oracularly, and he worked one hand
+about as he spoke.  "I don't purfess to know no more than what's my
+trade, which is locks and odd jobs o' that sort.  My pardner here'll
+tell you, gents, that I'll face anything from a tup'ny padlock up to a
+strong room or a patent safe; but I've got a thought here as may be a
+bright 'un, or only a bit of a man's nat'ral fog.  You want to find this
+gent, don't you?"
+
+"Yes," said Guest; and the tone of that "yes" suggested plainly enough,
+"no."
+
+"What have you got in that wooden head of yours now, Jem?" growled the
+sergeant.
+
+"Wait a minute, my lad, and you'll hear."
+
+"There's no occasion for us to stop here," said Guest hurriedly.
+
+"On'y a minute, sir, and then I'll screw down the lid.  What I wanted to
+say, gents, is: haven't we found the party, after all?"
+
+"What!" cried Guest.  "Where?"
+
+"Here, sir.  I don't understand sperrits--beer's my line; but what I say
+is: mayn't the gent be in there, after all, in slooshun--melted away in
+the sperrits, like a lump o' sugar in a man's tea?"
+
+"No, he mayn't," said the sergeant, closing the lid with a bang.  "Don't
+you take no notice of him, gentlemen; he's handled screws till he's a
+reg'lar screw himself."
+
+"But what I say is--"
+
+"Hold your row, and don't make a fool of yourself, mate.  Get your work
+done, and then go home and try experiments with a pint o' paraffin and a
+rat."
+
+The man uttered a growl, and attacked the bath lid angrily, screwing it
+down as the light was held for him, and then going with the others into
+the sitting room, where he soon restored the old door to its former
+state, there being no sign, when he had finished, of its having been
+touched.
+
+Then, after a glance round, with Brettison's portrait still seeming to
+watch them intently, the outer door was closed, and the little party
+returned to Stratton's chambers, where certain coins were passed from
+hand to hand, evidently to the great satisfaction of the two men, for
+Jem began to chuckle and shake his head.
+
+"Well," said the sergeant; "what now?"
+
+"I was thinking, pardner, about baths."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Guest hurriedly; "but that will do."
+
+"Yes, sir, I'm going; but there's your gents as goes and breaks the ice
+in the Serpentine, and them as goes to be cooked in a hoven, and
+shampooed; and you pull your strings and has it in showers, and your hot
+waters and cold waters; but this gent seems to have liked his stronger
+than anyone I ever knowed afore.  I say, pardner, that's having your
+lotion, and no sham."
+
+"Pooh!" said the sergeant.
+
+"Look here," said Guest quickly, and he slipped another sovereign into
+the sergeant's hand, "this has all been a foolish mistake.  I was too
+hasty."
+
+"Only did your duty, sir," replied the man.  "It was quite right, and
+I'm glad, for all concerned, that it was a mistake."
+
+"You understand, then; we don't want it to be talked about in the inn,
+or--or--anywhere, in fact."
+
+"Don't you be afraid about that, sir," said the man quietly.  "I don't
+wonder at you.  It did look suspicious, but that's all right, sir.
+Good-night, gentlemen both."
+
+"But your man?"
+
+"Close as a nut, sir; aren't you, Jem?"
+
+"Rather," said that personage, with a growl.  "Night, sir."
+
+He slipped out, and the sergeant followed.  As Guest was closing the
+door upon him, he whispered:
+
+"Quite upset your friend, sir.  Why, he turned ghastly; couldn't have
+looked worse if we'd found the--"
+
+"Exactly.  Bad health," said Guest hurriedly.  "Good-night."
+
+And he closed both doors; and then, with a peculiar sensation of
+shrinking, turned to face Stratton where he stood by the fireplace.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.
+
+GUEST'S SUGGESTION.
+
+Stratton did not move, but stood as if lost in thought, while
+involuntarily Guest's eyes were directed toward the door on his left.
+
+A key had always been visible, in old times, by the handle--a key about
+which Guest had bantered his friend and cut jokes in which the
+spirit-stand and Mrs Brade's name were brought into contact.  But there
+was no key there now, and he recalled how Stratton had endeavoured to
+keep him away from that door.  A trifle then, but looking singularly
+suggestive now.
+
+A dozen little facts began to grow and spread into horrors, all pointing
+to the cause of Stratton's sudden change, and strengthening Guest's
+ideas that there must have been a quarrel on the morning appointed for
+the wedding, possibly connected with money matters, and then in a fit of
+rage and excitement--disappointment, perhaps, at not willingly receiving
+the help he had anticipated--a blow had been struck, one that
+unintentionally had proved fatal.
+
+All Guest's ideas set in this direction, and once started everything
+fitted in exactly, so that at last he felt perfectly convinced that his
+friend had killed Brettison and in some way disposed of the body.
+
+For a moment he was disposed to cast the ideas out as utterly absurd and
+improbable, but the ideas would flow back again; and, try how he would
+to find some better solution of the puzzle, there seemed to be only that
+one way.
+
+Stratton stood there by the fireplace, pale, haggard, and wrapped in
+thought, apparently utterly unconscious of his friend's presence, till
+Guest took a step or two forward and rested his hand upon the table.
+
+Here he remained for a few minutes, trying to think out his course.  For
+he felt now full of a guilty knowledge, and in that knowledge, if he did
+not make it known, a sharer--an accomplice--in a murder.  For so the law
+and the world would judge it.  And then there was Edie!
+
+A shiver of dread and misery ran through him as her bright little face
+crossed his mind, and he saw that by keeping silence till the
+discovery--for that must come--he would be so implicated that he would
+share his friend's arrest; and, even if matters did not turn out serious
+with him as far as the law was concerned, his position with the
+admiral's family would be the same as Stratton's--everything would be at
+an end--his love affair like that of the miserable man before him; the
+man who now turned to him with a scared, horrified, hunted look in his
+eyes, startled by Guest's advance.
+
+It was time to speak, Guest thought, but the words would not come at
+first, and he could only gaze wildly at the wretched being before him,
+and think of their old schooldays together, then of their first fresh
+manhood, and always together, sharing purses, pleasures, troubles, full
+confidence always till this trouble had come.
+
+For the moment he hated and loathed the man before him; but the feeling
+was momentary.  Stratton would not wilfully have thrust himself into
+such a position.  He felt that there must be something more than he
+knew, and, softening down, he said huskily:
+
+"Well, Stratton, what have you to say?"
+
+There was no answer.  Stratton gazed at him with a far-off, fixed stare,
+full of helpless misery, which drew his friend far nearer in heart, and
+he spoke more freely now.
+
+"Come," he said; "speak out.  In spite of everything, I am your old
+friend.  I want to help you.  Will you trust me?"
+
+"Trust you?  Yes," said Stratton slowly.
+
+"Tell me, then, everything, beginning from the morning when you were to
+be married."
+
+Stratton slowly shook his head.
+
+"Come, man; this is no time for reticence.  Tell me all," cried Guest
+excitedly; and he spoke in a hoarse whisper, and glanced to door and
+window, as if afraid of being overheard.
+
+There was the same desponding movement.
+
+"Am I not worthy of your confidence?  I tell you I am ready to share
+it--ready to help you if you will only be honest with me, and tell me
+frankly everything."
+
+There was no reply.
+
+"Stratton, old fellow," cried Guest piteously, "you must speak.  I do
+not believe that you could have been intentionally guilty."
+
+Stratton glanced at him quickly, but the eager look died out.
+
+"I tell you that you are injuring me as well as yourself.  You have
+blighted your life; for God's sake don't blight mine, too."
+
+"What--what do you mean?" cried Stratton, who started as if stung at his
+friend's reference to his future, and when the appeal came, took a step
+or two forward.
+
+"That, knowing what I do, compelled from our old associations to be
+silent, I cannot--dare not go near her again."
+
+"Guest!"
+
+"I have said it.  How can I take her innocent hand?"
+
+"Because you know nothing," cried Stratton excitedly; "because you shall
+know nothing.  One is enough to bear a crime, if crime it was."
+
+"Ah!  You confess!" cried Guest; "then you did--kill him."
+
+Stratton made no reply, but looked firmly and sorrowfully in his eyes.
+
+"I knew it--I was sure--your manner betrayed you when we were in that
+room.  I see all, now.  You closed that door."
+
+"I will not be dragged into any confession," said Stratton fiercely.
+"It is my secret, and I will tell it to none.  I have a right to keep my
+own counsel.  You have a right to denounce me if you like.  If you
+speak, you can force me to no greater punishment than I suffer now."
+
+"Then it is all true?" groaned Guest.  "You killed him, and hid him
+there?"
+
+Stratton uttered a mocking laugh.
+
+"That door!" said Guest huskily.  "Twice over you have stopped me from
+going there.  Your manner has been that of a guilty man, and I am forced
+to share the knowledge of your crime."
+
+"No," said Stratton, speaking now with a look of calm contempt; "you
+share no knowledge--you shall share no knowledge.  You say I killed him
+and hid him there; where are your proofs?  You have brought in the
+police, and they have searched.  What have you found?  Again, I say,
+where are your proofs?"
+
+Guest looked at him wildly, and his lips parted, but he uttered no
+sound.
+
+"Let me rest, my good fellow, let me rest.  You are warring against your
+own happiness in trying to pry into matters that are naught to you.  I
+will not blight your future, Percy Guest, by letting you share any
+secrets of mine.  There, good-night.  I want to be alone."
+
+Guest tried to recommence the argument, and to master the man who looked
+so pitifully weak, but somehow the other's will was too powerful, and he
+had to yield, leaving the chambers at last with a shudder of horror, and
+feeling that he could never take Stratton by the hand again.
+
+For the man seemed changed.  There was a mocking, almost triumphant,
+look in his eyes as he took the lamp from the table, and followed Guest
+out on to the landing to stand there, holding the light over the massive
+balustrade for his friend to descend.
+
+As Guest reached the bottom, he looked up, and there, by the light which
+fell full upon Stratton's face, was the strange, mocking air
+intensified, and with a shiver he hurried across the inn, feeling that
+the mystery had deepened instead of being cleared.
+
+His intention was to hurry back to his own chambers, feeling that it was
+impossible for him to go near Bourne Square, knowing what he did, but
+the yearning for one to share his knowledge proved too strong.
+
+"And I promised that she should share every secret," he said to himself.
+"Whom am I to trust if I don't trust her!"
+
+The result was that, with his brain in a whirl of excitement, and hardly
+knowing what he did, he leaped into the first cab, and urged the man to
+drive fast, while he sank back into the corner, and tried to make plans.
+
+"I won't tell her," he decided at last.  "I'll see the admiral, and he
+will advise me what to do."
+
+He altered his mind directly.  "It will be betraying poor Malcolm," he
+thought; but swayed round again directly after.
+
+"I ought to tell him," he said.  "It is a duty.  He stood to him almost
+in the position of a father, and, for Myra's sake, ought to know; and
+Heaven knows I want someone to advise me now."
+
+He changed his plans half a dozen times before he reached the square;
+but that of telling the admiral under a pledge of secrecy was in the
+ascendant when the cab drew up at the door.
+
+It was opened by Andrews.
+
+"The admiral in?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir, but he's asleep in the library.  Miss Myra is in her chamber,
+sir--not very well to-night, but Miss Edith is in the drawing room."
+
+Guest went upstairs, and, upon entering, Edie rushed at him, when all
+his plans went for naught.
+
+"Oh, how long you have been," she panted, as she caught his hands.
+"Have you seen him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Have you found out anything?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is it dreadful?"
+
+"Too dreadful to tell you, dearest," he replied sadly.
+
+"Then I won't know," she said, with a sob.  "Oh, my poor, darling Myra!
+She will die of a broken heart, I know, I know."
+
+Guest tried to comfort her, and she grew more calm.
+
+"It was good and honest of you to come straight to me, to tell me,
+Percy," she said, submitting to his embraces; and Guest felt horribly
+guilty, and wished he had not come.  "It is dreadful, you say?"
+
+"Terrible, little one," he whispered.
+
+"Too terrible for me to know?  Then I must not hear it, I suppose?"
+
+"No."
+
+"But you know it, Percy," she said piteously; "it's too terrible, then,
+for you."
+
+"I have been trying hard to find out the cause of his conduct."
+
+"And you have found it out now?"
+
+"Yes; and I'd give anything to be as ignorant as I was yesterday."
+
+"Oh, but, Percy, dear," she whispered excitedly, "I must know that."
+
+"I cannot--I dare not tell you."
+
+"Not tell me--and you said you loved me!"
+
+"As I do with all my heart."
+
+"Then you cannot keep anything from me."
+
+"I'll tell your uncle, and ask his opinion first."
+
+"No, no, Percy.  I must know now--I must, indeed.  No matter how
+terrible, you cannot keep it from me."
+
+"But it is like betraying the man whom I'd give anything to save."
+
+"Save?  Save from what?"
+
+"Don't press me, dearest," he said tenderly.  "Trust me that it is best
+for you not to know."
+
+"Percy, dear," she said gently, as she laid her hand upon his arm; "you
+can trust me.  I always knew there must be something very terrible to
+make Mr Stratton behave toward poor Myra as he did, and you and I have
+been plotting and planning to find it out, in the hope that it would
+prove to be a trouble we could bridge over, and bring them together
+again.  You have discovered it all then at last?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then tell me."
+
+"I cannot--I dare not."
+
+Edie was silent for a few moments, as she sat gazing straight before her
+into the dimly lit back drawing room, her eyes suffused with tears, as
+she at last said in a whisper:
+
+"You asked me the other day if I would be your wife."
+
+"And you promised me an answer when I knew all," said Guest, cutting the
+ground from beneath his feet.
+
+"And now you know, and I'll tell you," she said, hardly above her
+breath.  "Yes, Percy, some day when we have made poor Myra happy."
+
+"Then it will never be," he said despairingly.
+
+"Let me judge," she whispered.  And he told her all.
+
+"But--but I don't quite understand," she faltered; "you think, then--oh,
+it is too horrible--you think, then, he had killed poor Mr Brettison,
+his friend?"
+
+"Yes," said Guest slowly and thoughtfully.  "It must have been that.  I
+cannot see a doubt."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+They started to their feet at the piteous sigh which came from the back
+drawing room, and it was followed by a heavy fall.
+
+Myra had entered in time enough to hear the terrible charge, and for her
+life seemed to be at an end.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Meanwhile Stratton had stood motionless, gazing down into the dark pit
+formed by the staircase, with the light of the lamp he held shining full
+on his haggard face, made more painful by the smile which contracted the
+lower parts of his countenance, till the last echo of his friend's steps
+died out, when he turned slowly and walked into his room, closing and
+fastening both doors.
+
+Then his whole manner changed.
+
+He rushed to the table, set down the lamp so that the glass shade
+rattled and nearly flew out of the holder; then, crossing quickly to a
+cabinet, he took out a decanter and glass, poured out a heavy draught of
+brandy, and gulped it down.
+
+The glass almost dropped from his hand to the table, and he clasped his
+brow, to stand staring before him fighting to recall his thoughts.
+
+Twice over he threw his head back, and shook it as if something
+compressed his brain and confused him.  Then the stimulant he had taken
+began to act, and he went to a drawer and took out a new screw-driver,
+with which, after seeing that the blinds were down and the curtains
+drawn over the window, he crossed to the door on the left of the
+fireplace; but only to turn away again, and take up the lamp and place
+it on a stand, so that it should light him in the work he had in hand.
+
+He was alert and eager now, as, with deft touches, he forced the
+screw-driver under a piece of moulding at the top and front edge of the
+door, wrenched them off, and bared some half dozen screw-heads.  These
+he rapidly turned and withdrew, laying them down one by one till all
+were out, when, from an inner pocket, he took out a key, unlocked the
+door, threw it open, and went into the bathroom, lamp in hand.
+
+Placing it on the polished lid, he rapidly toiled on till these screws
+were taken out in turn, when, lifting the lamp with his left hand, he
+threw up the lid with his right, and stood staring down into the bath
+with a shudder, which rapidly passed away.
+
+The lid fell with a heavy, dull sound, and, with a curious, wondering
+look, he turned and went slowly back to his table, set down the lamp,
+caught it up again, and walked into the bathroom, where he again set
+down the lamp, tore a fly-leaf from a letter in his pocket, folded it
+into a spill, and lit it at the lamp chimney.
+
+"Will it burn slowly or explode at once?" he said, with a reckless
+laugh.  "Let's see!" and once more he threw up the lid.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY.
+
+FOR HIS SAKE.
+
+Edie rushed to her cousin where she lay prone on the carpet, her face
+turned toward the shaded lamp, which threw its soft light upon her face,
+and, even then, in her horror, the girl thought it had never looked so
+beautiful before; while, as Guest, full of remorse, joined her, he felt
+ready to bite out his tongue in impotent rage against himself for a
+boyish babbler in making known to two gentlewomen his fearful discovery
+at the chambers.
+
+"Shall I ring?" he said excitedly; and he was half-way to the bell
+before Edie checked him.
+
+"Ring?  No; you absurd man!" she cried impatiently.  "Lock the doors.
+Nobody must know of this but us.  Here, quick, water."
+
+Guest was hurrying to obey the businesslike little body's orders about
+the doors when she checked him again.
+
+"No, no; it would make matters worse.  Nobody is likely to come till
+uncle leaves the library.  Water.  Throw those flowers out of that great
+glass bowl."
+
+Guest obeyed, and bore the great iridescent vessel, from which he had
+tossed some orchids, to her side.
+
+"That's right.  Hold it closer.  Poor darling!  My dearest Myra, what
+have you done to have to suffer all this terrible pain?"
+
+There were drops other than the cold ones to besprinkle the white face
+Edie had lifted into her lap, as she sat on the floor, bending down from
+time to time to kiss the marble forehead and contracted eyelids as she
+spoke.
+
+"Percy, dear," she said, as he knelt by her, helpful, but, in spite of
+the trouble, full of mute worship for the clever little body before him.
+
+His eyes met hers, and flashed their delight, as the second word seemed
+to clinch others which she had spoken that night.
+
+"This is all a secret.  Even uncle must not know yet till we have had a
+long talk with aunt.  She can be quite like a lawyer in giving advice."
+
+"But, Edie!"
+
+"No, no; we can have no hesitation.  What I say is right.  I'm very fond
+of Malcolm Stratton; and, if he has done this dreadful thing, his
+punishment must not come through us."
+
+"You're a little Queen of Sheba," he whispered passionately.
+
+"Hush!  That's not behaving like Solomon.  Be wise, please.  O Myra,
+Myra!  Stop; there are some salts on the chimney-piece in the front
+room.  No, no; stay!  She is coming to."
+
+For Myra turned her head slightly on one side, and muttered a few
+incoherent words in a low, weary tone; and at last opened her eyes to
+let them rest on Guest's face as he knelt by her.
+
+There was no recognition for a few moments, as she lay back, gazing
+dreamily at him.  Then thought resumed its power in her brain, and her
+face was convulsed by a spasm.
+
+Starting up, she caught his arm.
+
+"Is it all true?" she cried, in a low, husky whisper.
+
+Guest gave her a pitying, appealing look, but he did not speak.
+
+"Yes, it must be true," she said, as she rose to her feet, and stood
+supporting herself by Guest's arm, while Edie held her hand.  "You have
+not told anyone?" she said eagerly.
+
+"No; I came here as soon as I knew."
+
+"Where is Mr Stratton?"
+
+"At his chambers."
+
+"And you, his friend, have left him at such a time?"
+
+"It was at his wish," said Guest gently; "his secret is safe with me."
+
+"Yes.  He trusts you.  I trust you.  Percy Guest, Edie, even if he is
+guilty, he must be saved.  No, no, it could not be guilt.  I must not be
+weak now.  He may be innocent, and the law can be so cruel.  Who knows
+what may be the cause!"
+
+She pressed her hands to her temples for a few moments, and then the
+power to think grew clearer.
+
+"Go to him--from me.  Tell him I bid him leave England at once.  Leave
+with him, if you can be of help.  Stop.  He is not rich.  Edie, all the
+money you have.  Mr Guest, take this, too, and I will get more.  Now
+go, and remember that you are his friend.  Write to me and Edie, and we
+will send; but, though all is over, let me know that his life is safe."
+
+Guest caught the hand she extended with her purse and Edie's, kissed it
+reverently, and closed the fingers tightly round the purses, and gently
+thrust them from him.
+
+"What!"  Myra cried passionately; "you refuse?"
+
+"I want to help you both," he replied gravely.
+
+"O Percy!" cried Edie, with the tears starting to her eyes, and her tone
+of reproach thrilled him.
+
+"Don't speak to me like that," he said.  "You mean well, but to do what
+you say is to condemn him at once in everybody's sight.  It is all so
+foreign to my poor friend's nature that, even knowing what I do, I cling
+to the belief in his innocence."
+
+"Yes; he must be innocent," cried Myra.  "He could not be what you say."
+
+"Then should I be right in taking money and your message, saying to him,
+though not in words--`Fly for your life, like a hunted criminal'?  I
+could not do it.  Myra, Edie--think, pray, what you are urging.  It
+would be better advice to him to say--`Give yourself up, and let a jury
+of your fellow-countrymen decide.'"
+
+"No, no," cried Myra; "it is too horrible.  You do not know; you cannot
+see what he is suffering--what his position is.  I must act myself.  It
+cannot, it cannot be true!"
+
+"Myra!" whispered Edie, clinging to her.
+
+"What?  And you side against me, too?"
+
+"No, no, dear!  How can you speak such cruel words?  You know I would do
+anything for your sake."
+
+Half-mad with mental agony, Myra repulsed her with a bitter laugh.
+
+"Anything but this," she cried.  "There it is, plain enough.  He speaks,
+and you cry `Hearken! is he not wise.'  He says, `Let him be given up to
+justice for the mob to howl at him and say he must die.'  Die?  Oh, no,
+no, no, it is too horrible!  He must--he shall be saved!"
+
+In her agony she made a rush for the door, but before she was half-way
+there, she tottered, and would have fallen but for Guest's ready arm.
+He caught her just in time, and bore her to a couch, where she lay back
+sobbing hysterically for a few moments, but only to master her emotion,
+draw her cousin to her breast, and kiss her again and again before
+holding out her hand to Guest.
+
+"Forgive me!" she whispered.  "These long months of suffering have made
+me weak--half-mad.  My lips spoke, not my heart.  You are both wiser
+than I am.  Help me, and tell me what to do."
+
+"I will help you, and help him, in every way I can," said Guest gently,
+as he held the thin white hand in his.  "Now let me talk coolly to you--
+let us look the matter plainly in the face, and see how matters stand.
+I am speaking now as the lawyer, not as the friend--yes, as the friend,
+too; but our feelings must not carry us away."
+
+Myra struggled with her emotion, and pressed the hand which held hers
+firmly.
+
+Guest was silent for a few moments and stood as if collecting his
+thoughts and reviewing his position.
+
+"There is no need for taking any immediate steps," he said.  "The scene
+that took place to-night was forced on by my precipitancy, and the
+danger to Stratton has passed away.  To-morrow I will see him again, and
+perhaps he will be more ready to take me into his confidence, for there
+is a great deal more to learn, I am sure."
+
+"It is not so bad as you imagined."
+
+"After what took place to-night I can't say that," Guest replied sadly;
+"but there are points I have not yet grasped.  An accident--a fit of
+passion--a great deal more than I have yet learned."
+
+"Then go to him to-night," said Myra eagerly.  "I will go with you.  He
+shall not think that all who love forsake him in the hour of his need."
+
+"Myra!"
+
+"I cannot help it," she cried, springing up.  "Did I not go to him when
+that suspicion clung to him--that he was treacherous and base?  Even
+then in my heart I felt it could not be true.  Yes, I know what you say;
+he has tacitly confessed to this dreadful crime, but we do not know all.
+I saw that Malcolm Stratton could not be base.  If he has taken
+another's life, I know, I feel all the horror; but he has not been false
+or treacherous to the woman he loved, and it was on account of this
+horror that he shrank back that day.  To insult--to treat me with
+contempt?  No; to spare me, Edie; and my place is at his side."
+
+"No, not now," said Guest firmly.  "I will go back to-night.  Trust me,
+please, and have faith in my trying to do what is for the best."
+
+There was a few moments' silence, and then Myra spoke again faintly, but
+with more composure.
+
+"Yes, we trust you, Mr Guest.  Don't think any more about what I said.
+Come to me again soon with news.  I shall be dying for your tidings.
+Yes," she said, with a weary sigh, as she clung to his hand, "dying for
+your news.  Only promise me this; that you will not deceive me in any
+way.  If it is good or bad, you will come."
+
+"You must know," said Guest quietly, "sooner or later.  I will come and
+tell you everything."
+
+"Then go now--go to him."
+
+"Your father?  He will think it strange that I have been and gone
+without seeing him."
+
+"No; you have been to see us.  I will tell him everything when we are
+alone.  Good-night."
+
+"Good-night."
+
+Guest hurried back to the inn, but all was dark there; and, on going on
+to Sarum Street, he knocked at the door in vain.
+
+"I can do no more," he said; and he went slowly back to his own rooms.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY ONE.
+
+AT FAULT.
+
+It was from no dread of the consequences likely to ensue that Malcolm
+Stratton paused with the burning paper in his hand.  He knew that he had
+but to drop it into the clear fluid beneath, for this to burst out into
+a dancing crater of blue and orange flames.  He knew, too, that the old
+woodwork with which the antique place was lined would rapidly catch
+fire, and that in a short time the chambers would be one roaring, fiery
+furnace, and the place be doomed before the means of extinction could
+arrive.  He had no fear for self, for he felt that there would be time
+enough to escape if he wished to save his life.  But he did not drop the
+blazing paper; letting it burn right to his fingers, and then crushing
+it in his hand.
+
+"There is no reason," he muttered, as he turned slowly back to his room.
+"It would be madness now; there is nothing to conceal."
+
+He sank into his chair, and sat back thinking and trying to piece
+together all that had passed since the day when, full of life, joy, and
+eagerness, he was ready to hurry off to the church.  But his long
+confinement, with neglect of self, and the weary hours he had passed
+full of agony and despair, had impaired his power of arranging matters
+in a calm, logical sequence, and he had to go twice to his bedroom to
+bathe his burning head.
+
+There was one point at which he sought to arrive--his present position,
+and what he should do next.  It came to him at last, and then he worked
+himself up to the grasping of the facts, till a mist came over his
+brain, and all glided away, leaving his mind blank.
+
+For it was all one terrible confusion, mainly due to the fearful mental
+strain to which he had been exposed during the past few hours; and at
+last he sat there holding his throbbing brow, feeling that he could
+think of everything but the one point to which he strove.
+
+At one moment Guest's horrified face was before him, and in a puzzled
+way he felt that his friend had left him with the idea that he had slain
+Brettison, and that he ought to have made that portion of his trouble
+clear to him; but at that time it was as if he were fettered by the
+horrors of a nightmare-like dream.
+
+But he waved these thoughts aside.  They were as nothing to the terrible
+perplexity he had to master, and the first step toward that mastery was
+to find Brettison, whom he had last seen on the morning appointed for
+the wedding, wishing him happiness and every good thing which could fall
+to a bridegroom's lot.
+
+And now?  What did it all mean?  How could he clear up the chaos which
+bade fair to wreck his brain.  Brettison could not have returned; and
+yet how strange it all was!  What could he do?
+
+One thing shone out, however, clearly; and that was the knowledge that
+he could come back here and stay without being haunted by the presence
+of a great horror close at hand.  He even began to grasp the fact that,
+for a long time past, he had been needlessly shunning his rooms and
+living away in a morbid state, always dreading discovery; and opening
+his doors at every visit, fully expecting to find himself face to face
+with the police, waiting to trap him in his lair.
+
+How he had suffered!  How he had stolen to his chambers at night,
+creeping up to his door furtively, and, after entering, examining the
+closet, and making sure that it had not been tampered with and opened in
+his absence.
+
+It had been a terrible period of agony, such as had turned him old
+before his time; and now he had discovered that his suffering and dread
+had been vain and empty; that he had stayed away from the inn for
+naught, unless all this was imagination; another of the horrible
+nightmare dreams by which he had been haunted ever since that dreadful
+day.
+
+At last he grew calmer, and felt able to look matters in the face.  The
+great horror had passed away, and in so passing it had roused him to
+action.  There was work to do, a strange complication to solve; and he
+settled in his own mind how that was to be done.
+
+He must find Brettison at once; and the great question was: Where could
+he be?
+
+Here was a grand difficulty at once.  Where would a man like Brettison
+be likely to sojourn?--a man who ranged through the length and breadth
+of the country in pursuit of his specimens.
+
+In an ordinary way.  But what would he be doing now and what had he
+done?
+
+Stratton shuddered, and pictured a strange scene, one upon which he dare
+not dwell; and, leaping up, he took matches and a candle with the
+intention of going to his friend's room to try and pick up the clue
+there; but by the time he reached his door he was face to face with the
+first obstacle.  Brettison's door was locked again, and, without
+re-summoning the help they had had that evening, entrance was
+impossible.
+
+Taking the lamp he entered the bath-closet to try the old door at the
+end; but this was firmly screwed up again, and unless he broke through
+one of the panels, entrance was impossible that way.
+
+Stratton returned to his chair, hesitating to take so extreme a course;
+and sitting down he tried to think out a likely place for Brettison to
+have gone.
+
+As he thought, he called to mind various places where he knew him to
+have stayed in the past; and selecting one at haphazard--an old-world
+place in Kent--he determined to start for there at once, perfectly aware
+of the wildness of the scheme and how easily he might spend his life in
+such a chase, but there was nothing else to be done.  He could trust no
+one--get no help.  It must be his own work entirely.  Brettison was
+master of his secret, and there could be no rest for him until the old
+man was found.
+
+He started at once, hurrying away from his carefully closed-up chambers
+by the northern gate, so that he should not be seen at the porter's
+lodge, and was half-way to the station when a thought assailed him,
+which made him turn back, suffering all the agony of a guilty man in
+dread of discovery.
+
+Brettison could not have taken that body away from the chambers; such a
+task was impossible without discovery.  It must, after all, be hidden
+somewhere within his rooms.
+
+He turned into an embayment over a pier of the bridge he was crossing,
+and sat down to think.  He knew Brettison's rooms so well--as well as
+his own.  Where could the body be concealed?
+
+He mentally wandered from one room to the other, and paused in a little
+pantry-like place, peering into each nook and corner, and searching
+every article of furniture likely to contain a bulky object; but all in
+vain.
+
+Then he recalled the fact that the police officer--a man of experience--
+had searched carefully and given the matter up.  Still Brettison must
+have practiced a great deal of cunning for his friend's sake, and there
+was no knowing what he might have done.  There were the floors of the
+rooms--boards might have been taken up, and concealment made between the
+joists; or there was the wainscot; some panel might have been taken out
+in front of a recess, and the body placed there.
+
+But Stratton shook his head, and his chin went down upon his chest in
+despair.  There were sufficient reasons, for Brettison not choosing such
+a hiding-place as that.  Detection in a short time was certain.
+
+"Seems impossible," thought Stratton; "but he must have taken it away."
+
+"Hadn't you better go home?" said a gruff voice.
+
+Stratton looked up, to find a burly policeman had stopped by his side,
+and was watching him keenly.
+
+"Go--go home?" stammered Stratton.
+
+"Yes, sir; that's what I said.  You don't look well, and when people
+come and sit down here, feeling as you do, they sometimes lets their
+feelings get the better of 'em and jump off.  Next moment they're sorry
+for it, and call for help, often enough when no help can come.  You go
+home, sir, and have a day or two in bed.  You'll come out again like a
+new man."
+
+Stratton frowned.
+
+"You are making a mistake," he said quietly.  "I had no such thought as
+you imagine."
+
+"Glad of it, sir.  You'll excuse me.  You know that sort of thing
+happens here so often that we're obliged to keep a sharp lookout."
+
+Stratton's mind was made up once more, and he hastened off to the
+station, caught a later train, and in two hours was down in the old
+village, with its quaint ivy-covered hostelry and horse-trough
+ornamented with the mossy growth that dotted the boles of the grand old
+forest trees around.
+
+The landlady met him with a smile of welcome which faded after his
+questions.
+
+Oh, yes, she remembered Mr Brettison, and his green tin candle-box and
+bright trowel very well.  He was the gentleman who used to bring home
+weeds in his umbrella; but it was a long time since he had been down
+there.  It was only a week ago that she was saying to her master how she
+wondered that that gentleman had not been down for so long.  But
+wouldn't he come in and have some refreshment?
+
+No, Stratton would not come in and have some refreshment, for he went
+back to town instantly.
+
+This was an example of many such blind ventures; all carried out in the
+face of the feeling of despair which racked him; and the time glided on,
+with hope goading him to fresh exertions in the morning, despair bidding
+him, in the darkness of the night, give up, and accept his fate.
+
+In course of time, Stratton visited every place in England that he could
+recall as one of Brettison's haunts, but always with the same result;
+and then in a blind, haphazard way, he began to wander about town.
+
+The consequence was that he was rarely at his rooms, and letter after
+letter was left for him by Guest, who reiterated his demands to see him,
+and asked for appointments in vain.
+
+But, in spite of the constant checks to which he was subjected, the
+desire to find his old friend only increased; and, after sitting half
+the night thinking what to do next, Stratton would snatch a few hours'
+sleep, and start off again, feeling sure that he had hit upon the right
+clue at last.
+
+For there was always some place that he had not searched.  The greater
+museums and institutes he had visited again and again, and at all hours,
+hoping to find the old man buried in some book, or closely examining
+some specimen; but the minor places only came to mind by degrees, and
+day succeeded day in which he went about, haggard and weary-eyed, always
+looking for the slight, grey old man from whom he had parted on what was
+to have been his wedding day.
+
+And all the time he had a kind of presentiment that the old man was
+aware of the search being carried on after him, and was, consequently,
+hiding away, but, perhaps, keeping an eye upon his proceedings.
+
+It was impossible to give up, for he felt that the old man must at any
+cost be found; and at last he spent his days wandering dreamily about
+the streets, trying to solve the difficulty--watching the passers-by,
+and asking himself whether there were any means he had left untried--
+whether there was any friend or acquaintance he could question as to his
+whereabouts.
+
+But Brettison had no friends or acquaintances, as far as he knew.  He
+had been to his solicitor, who smiled, and said that his client was, in
+all probability, studying mosses or lichens in the Alps, and would come
+back some day; to his banker, who was reticent at first, and then, upon
+seeing his visitor's anxiety, readily stated that his cheques had been
+cashed quite lately, which proved him to be about, but where he could
+not say.
+
+Everything seemed to have been done, but still day after day Stratton
+traversed London streets in a never wearying search, trusting to chance
+to help him, though perfectly aware that he might go on for years and
+never meet the man he sought.
+
+Chance did aid him at last; for one day he had turned out of Fleet
+Street to go northward, and as he passed along the broad highway--
+wishing that he could explain everything to Guest and bring other wits
+to his help, instead of fighting the weary battle in silence alone--he
+suddenly stepped out into the road to cross to the other side, to an old
+bookseller's shop, where the man made a specialty of natural history
+volumes.  It was a shop where he and Brettison had often spent an hour
+picking out quaint works on their particular subjects, and he was
+thinking that possibly the man might have seen Brettison and be able to
+give him some information, when there was the rattle of wheels, a loud
+shout, and he sprang out of the way of a fast driven hansom.
+
+The driver yelled something at him in passing, by no means
+complimentary; but Stratton hardly heard it.  He stood, rooted to the
+spot, gazing after the cab; for, in the brief moment, as he started
+away, he had caught sight of the pale, worn face of Brettison, whose
+frightened, scared gaze had met his.  Then he had passed without making
+a sign, and Stratton was gazing after the cab in speechless horror, for
+upon the roof, extending right across, and so awkwardly placed that the
+driver half stood in his seat and rested his hands upon it with the
+reins, was a large, awkward-looking deal box, evidently heavy, for the
+cab was tilted back and the shafts rose high, as if the balance was
+enough to hoist the horse from the pavement.
+
+At last!  And that scared look of the pale-faced man, and the strange,
+heavy case on the cab-roof, with every suggestion of haste, while he
+stood there in the middle of the road as if a victim to nightmare, till
+the quickly driven vehicle was too far off for him to read the number.
+
+Suddenly the power to move came back, and, dashing forward in the middle
+of the road, Stratton shouted to the man to stop.
+
+"He won't stop--not likely," growled another cabman, who had seen
+Stratton's escape.  "Shouldn't loaf across the--Here, sir," he cried
+suddenly, as a thought flashed across his brain.  "Hi! guv'nor; jump
+in--I'll ketch him for you."
+
+He whipped his horse up alongside of Stratton, who caught at the idea,
+and, seizing the side of the cab, sprang in.
+
+"Quick!  Five shillings if you keep that cab in sight."
+
+The wide road was open, and pretty free from vehicles, and the horse
+went fast, but the cab in which Brettison was seated had a good start,
+reached the cross street, and entered the continuation of that which he
+was pursuing.  Stratton's man drove up as a number of vehicles were
+crowding to go east and west, and the flow of those from north and south
+was stopped by a stalwart policeman; while raging at the sudden check,
+Stratton ground his teeth with rage.
+
+"All right, sir," came down through the little trap in the roof; "he'll
+let us go acrost directly, and I'll ketch up the cab in no time."
+
+They were not arrested much above a minute, but the interval was
+sufficient to give Brettison's cab a good start, and when leave was
+given to go, the case on the roof was invisible, and the question arose
+in Stratton's mind--which way had it gone? into one of the station
+yards, or straight on over the bridge into South London?
+
+He raised himself a little to peer over the horse's head, but he could
+see nothing, and turning round, he thrust up the trap.
+
+"Faster--faster!" he cried.  "You must overtake it.  Faster!"
+
+"All right, sir," shouted the man hoarsely; and crack! crack! went the
+long heavy whip on one and then on the other side of the well-bred but
+worn-out screw between the shafts.
+
+The result was a frantic plunge forward, and though the driver dragged
+at and worked the bit savagely, the horse tore on at a gallop for about
+fifty yards, with the cab swaying from side to side; then the tiny flash
+of equine fire died out, and the horse's knees gave way.  Down it went
+with a crash.  Stratton was dashed forward heavily against the curved
+splash-board, to which he clung, and the next thing he saw was the
+driver rising from somewhere beside the horse, that lay quite still now
+on its side, while shouts, the faces of people who crowded up, and the
+vehicles that passed on either side, all seemed dim, confused, and
+distant.  Then bells of a curiously sharp, quick tone were ringing
+loudly in his ears.
+
+"Hurt, sir?"
+
+"Yes--no; I think not.  Quick, stop that cab," said Stratton huskily;
+but, as he spoke, he knew it was in a confused way, and that for his
+life he could not have explained what cab.
+
+"It's far enough off by this time, sir," said a voice beside, him, "and
+if you ain't hurt, I am.  Never went in training for a hacrobat.  Here,
+Bobby, help us up with the fiery untamed steed.  That's the second time
+he's chucked me over the roof.  Wait a moment, sir, and I'll drive you
+on; we may ketch 'em yet.  Don't do a man out of his fare."
+
+"Too late," was all Stratton could think of then.  "I could not overtake
+it now."
+
+And in a dim, misty way he seemed to be watching Brettison hurrying away
+with that heavy, awkward case which contained--
+
+"Yes," he muttered with a shudder, "it must be that."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY TWO.
+
+BY A RUSE.
+
+Such a chance did not come in Stratton's way again.  "If I had drunk
+that when Guest came and interrupted me--when was it?  Two years and
+more ago," sighed Stratton one night, "what an infinity of suffering I
+should have been spared.  All the hopes and disappointments of that
+weary time, all the madness and despair of the morning when that
+wretched convict came, all my remorse, my battles with self, the
+struggles to conceal my crime--all--all spared to me; for I should have
+been asleep."
+
+A curious doubting smile crossed his face slowly at these thoughts; and,
+resting his cheek upon his hand, with the light full upon his face, he
+gazed straight before him into vacancy.
+
+"How do I know that?" he thought.  "Could I, a self-murderer, assure
+myself that I should have sunk into oblivion like that--into a restful
+sleep, free from the cares I had been too cowardly to meet and bear?
+No, no, no; it was not to be.  Thank God!  I was spared from that."
+
+"But mine has been a cruel lot," he continued; "stroke after stroke that
+would have been kinder had they killed; for the misery has not been mine
+alone.  I could have borne it better if it had been so.  Poor Myra--poor
+girl!  Yours has been a strange fate, too."
+
+And his thoughts were filled by her pain-wrung features, and wild,
+appealing look last time they met, when she had clung to him there, and
+appealed to him to forget the past, for she would forgive everything and
+take him to her heart and face with him the whole world.
+
+He shuddered.
+
+"Poor, blind, loving heart! ready to kiss the hand wet with her
+husband's blood."  It was too horrible--too terrible to bear.
+
+He hid his face in his hands for a few minutes, but grew calmer as he
+went on reviewing the past; and from time to time a slight shiver ran
+through him, as he thought of what he had done, and the mad plan he had
+made to utterly conceal his crime by fire.
+
+"But that's all past now," he said at last, with a sigh of relief.
+"That horror has been taken from my load, and I will, as a man, fight
+hard to meet whatever comes.  Heaven knows my innocence, and will find
+me strength to bear it all; and, perhaps, some day, give me--give her
+forgetfulness and rest."
+
+He looked sharply up and listened, for he fancied that he heard a sound;
+but a step faintly beating on the paving outside seemed to accord with
+it, and he went on musing again about Brettison, wondering where he
+could be, and how he could contrive to keep hidden away from him as he
+did.
+
+"If we could only meet," he said, half aloud--"only stand face to face
+for one short hour, how different my future might be."
+
+"No," he said aloud, after a thoughtful pause, "how can I say that?
+_L'homme propose et Dieu dispose_.  We are all bubbles on the great
+stream of life."
+
+He half started from his chair, listening again, for he felt convinced
+that he heard a sound outside his doors, and going across, he opened
+them softly and looked out, but the grim, ill-lit staircase and the hall
+below were blank and silent, and satisfied that he had been mistaken, he
+went back to his seat to begin musing again, till once more there was a
+faint sound, and as he listened he became conscious of a strange,
+penetrating odour of burning.
+
+Stratton's face grew ghastly with the sudden emotion that had attacked
+him, and for a few moments he sat trembling, and unable to stir from his
+seat.
+
+"At last!" he said in a whisper; "at last!" and, conscious that the time
+had come for which he had longed and toiled so hard, he felt that the
+opportunity was about to slip away, for he would be unable to bear the
+encounter, if not too much prostrated by his emotion to rise from his
+seat.
+
+It was only a trick of the nerves, which passed off directly; and he
+rose then, firm and determined, to cross gently to first one and then
+the other door by his mantelpiece, where he stood, silent and intent,
+breathing deeply.
+
+Yes; there was no doubt now.  He was inhaling the penetrating, peculiar
+odour of strong tobacco; and at last Brettison must have returned, and
+be sitting there smoking his eastern water-pipe.
+
+Stratton drew softly back, as if afraid of being heard, though his steps
+were inaudible on the thick carpet, and he stood there thinking.
+
+"If I go," he said to himself, "he will not answer my knock."  And
+feeling now that Brettison might have been back before now unknown to
+him, he tried to think out some plan by which he could get face to face
+with his friend.
+
+A thought came directly, and it seemed so childish in its simplicity
+that he smiled and was ready to give it up; but it grew in strength and
+possibility as he looked round and took from a table, where lay quite a
+little heap that had been thrust into his letter-box from time to time,
+four or five unopened circulars and foolscap missives, whose appearance
+told what they were; and armed with these he opened his doors softly and
+passed out, drawing the outer door to, and then stole on tiptoe
+downstairs and out into the dimly lit square.
+
+"He will not notice that it is so late," he said to himself, as he
+looked up and saw just a faint gleam of light at Brettison's window,
+where the drawn curtain was not quite closed.
+
+Stratton paused for a moment, and drew a long breath before attempting
+to act the part upon which he had decided.  Then, going on some twenty
+or thirty yards, he turned and walked back with a heavy, decided,
+businesslike step, whistling softly as he went, right to the entry,
+where, still whistling, he ascended the stairs to his door, thrust in
+and drew out a letter-packet thrice, making the metal flap of the box
+rattle, gave a sharp double knock, and then crossed the landing and went
+the few steps, whistling still, along the passage to Brettison's door.
+Here he thrust in, one by one, three circulars, with a good deal of
+noise, through the letter-flap, gave the customary double knock, went on
+whistling softly, and waited a moment or two; and then, as he heard a
+faint sound within, gave another sharp double rap, as a postman would
+who had a registered letter, or a packet too big to pass through the
+slit.
+
+The ruse was successful, and with beating heart Stratton stood waiting a
+little on one side, as there was the click and grate of the latch, and
+the door was opened a little way.
+
+That was enough.  Quick as lightning, Stratton seized and dragged it
+wide, to step in face to face with Brettison, who started back in alarm
+and was followed up by his friend, who closed both doors carefully, and
+then stood gazing at the bent, grey-headed, weak old man, who had shrunk
+back behind the table, whereon the pipe stood burning slowly, while the
+unshaded lamp showed a dozen or so of freshly opened letters on the
+table, explaining their owner's visit there.
+
+Stratton did not speak, but gazed fiercely at the trembling old man, who
+looked wildly round as if for some weapon to defend himself, but shook
+his head sadly, and, with a weary smile, came away from his place of
+defence.
+
+"Your trick has succeeded, sir," he said quietly.  "Seventy-two!  Has
+the time come?  I ought not to fear it now."
+
+Stratton uttered a harsh sound--half-gasp, half-cry.
+
+"Well," continued Brettison, who looked singularly aged and bent since
+they had last stood face to face, "you have found me at last."
+
+Stratton's lips parted, but no sound came; his emotion was too great.
+
+"It will be an easy task," said Brettison, with a piteous look at
+Stratton.  "No sounds are heard outside these chambers--not even pistol
+shots."
+
+There was an intense bitterness in those last words which made the young
+man shrink, and as Brettison went on, "I shall not struggle against my
+fate," he uttered a cry of bitterness and rage.
+
+"Sit down!" he said fiercely.  "Why do you taunt me like this?  You have
+been here before from time to time.  Why have you hidden from me like
+this?"
+
+"I have my reasons," said Brettison slowly.  "Why have you come?"
+
+"You ask me that!"
+
+"Yes.  You have hunted me for months now, till my life has been
+worthless.  Have you come to take it now?"
+
+"Why should I take your life?"
+
+"To save your own.  You believe I heard or witnessed--that."
+
+He paused before uttering the last word, and pointed to the door on his
+left.
+
+Stratton could not suppress a shudder; but, as he saw the peculiar way
+in which the old man's eyes were fixed upon his, a feeling of resentment
+arose within him, and his voice sounded strident and harsh when he spoke
+again.
+
+"I had no such thoughts," he said.  "You know better, sir.  Come, let us
+understand one another.  I am reckless now."
+
+"Yes," said Brettison coldly.
+
+"Then, if you have any fear for your life, you can call for help; that
+is, for someone to be within call to protect you, for what we have to
+say must be for our ears alone."
+
+Brettison did not answer for a few moments, during which time he watched
+the other narrowly.
+
+"I am not afraid, Malcolm," he said; and he seated himself calmly in his
+chair.  Then, motioning to another, he waited until Stratton was seated.
+
+"Yes," he said quietly, "I have been here from time to time to get my
+letters."
+
+"Why have you hidden yourself away?" cried Stratton fiercely.
+
+"Ah!  Why?" said Brettison, gazing at him thoughtfully from beneath his
+thick, grey eyebrows.  "You want a reason?  Well, I am old and
+independent, with a liking to do what I please.  Malcolm Stratton, I am
+not answerable to any man for my actions."
+
+Stratton started up, and took a turn to and fro in the dusty room before
+throwing himself again in his chair, while the old man quietly took the
+long, snake like tube of his pipe in hand, examined the bowl to find it
+still alight, began to smoke with all the gravity of a Mussulman, and
+the tobacco once more began to scent the air of the silent place.
+
+Stratton's lips parted again and again, but no words would come.  In his
+wild excitement and dread of what he knew he must learn, he could not
+frame the questions he panted to ask in this crisis of his life, and at
+last it was with a cry of rage as much as appeal that he said:
+
+"Man, man, am I to be tortured always?  Why don't you speak?"
+
+"You have hunted me from place to place, Malcolm Stratton, in your
+desperation to find out that which I felt you had better not know; and
+now you have found me--brought me to bay--I wait for you to question
+me."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Stratton hoarsely; and, with a hasty gesture, as he
+clapped his hand to his throat, "I will speak--directly."
+
+He rose again and paced the room, and it was while at the far end that
+he said in a low voice:
+
+"Yes; you know all."
+
+"All."
+
+"Tell me, then--why have you done this?  Stop!  I am right--it was you."
+
+"You are right; it was I," said Brettison, smoking calmly, as if they
+were discoursing upon some trivial matter instead of a case of life and
+death--of the horror that had blasted a sanguine man's life, and made
+him prematurely old.
+
+"Tell me, then; how could you--how could you dare?  Why did you act the
+spy upon my actions?"
+
+The old man rose quickly from his chair, brought his hand down heavily
+upon the table, and leaned forward to gaze in Stratton's eyes.
+
+"Answer me first, boy.  Me--the man who loved you and felt toward you as
+if you were a son!  Why did you not come to me for help and counsel when
+you stood in danger--in peril of your life?"
+
+The gentle, mild face of the old botanist was stern and judicial now,
+his tone of voice full of reproof.  It was the judge speaking, and not
+the mild old friend.
+
+"Did you think me--because I passed my life trifling, as some call it,
+with flowers, but, as I know it to be, making myself wiser in the works
+of my great Creator--did you think me, I say, so weak and helpless a
+creature that I could not counsel--so cowardly and wanting in strength
+of mind and faith in you, that I would not have stood by you as a father
+should stand by his son?"
+
+Stratton groaned.
+
+"Forgive me," he said feebly; "I was half-mad."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How could I, crushed by the horror of having taken a fellow-creature's
+life, cursed by the knowledge that this man was--But you cannot know
+that."
+
+"Take it, boy, that I know everything," said the old man, resuming his
+seat.
+
+"Then have some pity on me."
+
+"Pity for your folly?  Yes."
+
+"Folly!  You are right.  I will take it that you know everything, and
+speak out now.  Brettison--"
+
+He paused--he could not speak.  But by a mighty effort he mastered his
+emotion.
+
+"Now think, and find some excuse for me.  I was in my room there, elate
+almost beyond a man's power to imagine; in another hour the woman whom I
+had idolised for years was to be my wife.  Recollect that, two years
+before, my hopes had been dashed to the ground, and I had passed through
+a time of anguish that almost unhinged my brain, so great was my
+despair."
+
+"Yes," said Brettison, "I recall all that."
+
+"Then that man came, and I was face to face with the knowledge that once
+more my hopes were crushed, and--he fell."
+
+Stratton ceased speaking, and sat gazing wildly before him into the
+past.
+
+It was in a husky whisper that he resumed:
+
+"I stood there, Brettison, mad with horror, distraught with the
+knowledge that I was the murderer of her husband--that my hand, wet with
+his blood, could never again clasp hers, even though I had made her
+free."
+
+The old man bent his head; and, gathering strength of mind and speech,
+now that he was at last speaking out openly in his defence, Stratton
+went on:
+
+"It was horrible--horrible!  There it is, all back again before my eyes,
+and I feel again the stabbing, sickening pain of the bullet wound which
+scored my shoulder, mingled with the far worse agony of my brain.  I had
+killed her husband--the escaped convict; and, above the feeling that all
+was over now, that my future was blasted, came the knowledge that, as
+soon as I called for help, as soon as the police investigated the
+matter, my life was not worth a month's purchase.  For what was my
+defence?"
+
+Brettison satin silence, smoking calmly.
+
+"That this man had made his existence known to me, shown by his presence
+that his supposed death was a shadow--that, after his desperate plunge
+into the sea, he had managed to swim ashore and remain in hiding; the
+dark night's work and the belief that he had fallen shot, being his
+cloak; and the search for the body of a convict soon being at an end.
+You see all this?"
+
+Brettison bowed his head.
+
+"Think, then, of my position; put yourself in my place.  What jury--what
+judge would believe my story that it was an accident?  It seemed to me
+too plain.  The world would say that I slew him in my disappointment and
+despair.  Yes, I know they might have called it manslaughter, but I must
+have taken his place--a convict in my turn."
+
+"You thought that?"
+
+"Yes, I thought that--I think it now.  I could not--I dared not speak.
+Everything was against me, and in my horror temptation came."
+
+Brettison looked at him sharply.
+
+"The hope was so pitiful, so faint, so weak, Brettison; but still it
+would linger in my maddened brain that some day in the future--after
+years, maybe, of expiation of the deed--I might, perhaps, approach her
+once again.  I thought so then.  The secret would be between me and my
+Maker, and in his good time he might say to my heart: `It is enough.
+You have suffered all these years.  Your sin is condoned--your
+punishment is at an end.'  I tell you I thought all that, and in my
+madness I dared not let the thing be known.  She would know it, too, and
+if she did I felt that hope would be dead indeed, and that I had, too,
+better die."
+
+Stratton ceased speaking, and let his head fall upon his hand.
+
+"Put yourself in my place, I say.  Think of yourself as being once more
+young and strong--the lover of one whom, in a few short hours, you would
+have clasped as your wife, and then try and find excuse for my mad
+action--for I know now that it was mad, indeed."
+
+"Yes, mad indeed," muttered Brettison.
+
+"Well, I need say no more.  You know so much, you must know the rest.
+They came to me, fearing I had been killed--robbed and murdered.  They
+found me at last, when I was forced to admit them, looking, I suppose, a
+maniac; for I felt one then, compelled to face them, and hear the old
+man's reproaches, in horror lest they should discover the wretched
+convict lying dead, and no word to say in my defence.  Nature could bear
+no more.  My wound robbed me of all power to act, and I fainted--to come
+to, fearing that all was discovered; but their imaginations had led them
+astray.  They had found my wound and the pistol.  It was an attempt at
+suicide.  Poor Guest recalled the first--I do not wonder.  And they went
+away at last, looking upon me as a vile betrayer of the woman I loved,
+and sought in their minds for the reason of my despair, and the cowardly
+act I had attempted to escape her father's wrath.  Brettison, old
+friend, I make no excuses to you now; but was I not sorely tried?
+Surely, few men in our generation have stood in such a dilemma.  Can you
+feel surprised that, stricken from my balance as a man--a sane and
+thoughtful man--I should have acted as I did, and dug for myself a pit
+of such purgatory as makes me feel now, as I sit here making my
+confession, how could I have gone through so terrible a crisis and yet
+be here alive, and able to think and speak like a suffering man."
+
+The silence in the room was terrible for what seemed an age before
+Brettison stretched out his trembling hand and took that of the man
+before him.
+
+"Hah!"
+
+Malcolm Stratton's low cry.  It was that of a man who had long battled
+with the waves of a great storm, and who had at last found something to
+which he could cling.
+
+There was another long and painful pause before Stratton spoke again,
+and then he slowly withdrew his hand.
+
+"No," he said; "we must never clasp hands again.  I must go on to the
+end a pariah among my kind."
+
+Brettison shook his head.
+
+"I have put myself in your place often," he said slowly, "and I have
+felt that I might have acted much the same."
+
+Stratton looked at him eagerly.
+
+"Yes; my great fault in you is that you should not have trusted me."
+
+There was again a long silence before Stratton spoke.
+
+"I felt that I was alone in the world to fight my own battle with all my
+strength," he said wearily.
+
+"And that strength was so much weakness, boy.  Mine, weak as it is, has
+proved stronger far."
+
+Stratton looked at him wonderingly.
+
+"Yes; how much agony you might have been spared, perhaps, if you had
+come to me.  But I don't know--I don't know.  You acted as you thought
+best; I only did the same, and, not knowing all your thoughts, I fear
+that I have erred."
+
+Stratton sat thinking for a few moments, and then, raising his eyes:
+
+"I have told you all.  It is your turn now."
+
+Brettison bowed his head.
+
+"Yes," he said, "it is better that I should speak and tell you."
+
+But he was silent for some time first, sitting back with the tips of his
+fingers joined, as if collecting his thoughts.
+
+"You remember that morning--how I came to say good-bye?"
+
+"Yes, of course."
+
+"I started, and then found that I had forgotten my lens.  I hurried
+back, and had just entered my room when I heard voices plainly in yours.
+My book-closet door was open, that of your bath room must have been
+ajar.  I did not want to hear, but the angry tones startled me, and the
+words grew so fierce--you neither of you thought of how you raised your
+voices in your excitement--that I became alarmed, and was about to hurry
+round to your room, when a few words came to my ears quite plainly, and,
+in spite of its being dishonourable, I, in my dread that you were in
+danger, hurried into the book-closet and was drawn to the thin, loose
+panel at the end.
+
+"There I was enchained; I could not retreat, for I heard so much of the
+piteous position in which you were placed.  My mind filled in the
+blanks, and I grasped all.
+
+"I need not repeat all you know--only tell you that, unable to master my
+curiosity, I placed my eye to one of the cracks in the old panelling,
+and could see the man's face--her husband's features--and I saw him
+glance again and again at the money, and felt that he meant to have it,
+though you seemed ignorant of the fact; and, dreading violence, I drew
+back to go for help.  But I could not leave.  It meant a terrible
+_expose_ and untold horror for your promised wife.  I tell you I could
+not stir, and the fact of my being a miserable eavesdropper died out in
+the terrible climax you had reached."
+
+Brettison paused to wipe his brow, wet with a dew begotten by the agony
+of his recollections, before he continued:
+
+"I stayed there then, and watched and listened, almost as near as if I
+had been a participator in the little life drama which ensued.  There, I
+was with you in it all, boy--swayed by your emotions, but ready to cry
+out upon you angrily when I saw you ready to listen to the wretch's
+miserable proposals, and as proud when I saw your determination to
+sacrifice your desires and make a bold stand against what, for your
+gratification, must have meant finally a perfect hell for the woman you
+loved.  Then, in the midst of my excitement, there came the final
+struggle, as you nobly determined to give the scoundrel up to the fate
+he deserved so well.  It was as sudden to me as it was horrible.  I saw
+the flash of the shot, and felt a pang of physical pain, as, through the
+smoke, I dimly saw you stagger.  Then, while I stood there paralysed, I
+saw you fly at him as he raised his pistol to fire again, the struggle
+for the weapon, which you struck up as he drew the trigger."
+
+"Yes," said Stratton, "I struck up the pistol as he drew the trigger;
+but who would believe--who would believe?"
+
+"And then I saw him reel and fall, and there before me he lay, with the
+blood slowly staining the carpet, on the spot where I had so often sat."
+
+He wiped his brow again, while Stratton rested his elbows on the table
+and buried his face in his hands, as if to hide from his gaze the scene
+his friend conjured up from the past.
+
+"Malcolm Stratton," continued the old man, rising to lay his hand upon
+the other's head, "you were to me as a son.  As a father loves the boy
+born unto him, I swear I felt toward you.  I looked upon you as the son
+of my childless old age, and I was standing there gazing at you, face to
+face with the horror of that scene, while, with crushing weight, there
+came upon me the knowledge that, come what might, I must summon help.
+That help meant the police; and, in imagination, I saw myself sending
+you to the dock, where you would perhaps, from the force of the
+circumstances--as you have told me you might--stand in peril of your
+life.  But still I felt that there was nothing otherwise that could be
+done; and, slowly shrinking back, I was on my way to perform this act of
+duty, when I heard a low, deep groan.  That drew me back, and, looking
+into your room once more, a mist rose between me and the scene, my
+senses reeled, and I slowly sank down, fainting, on the floor."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY THREE.
+
+THE REVELATION.
+
+"It was the act of a woman, Stratton," said Brettison with an apologetic
+smile, "but I am only a weak old man, and never weaker than in those
+moments.
+
+"I could not have been there a moment, and I must have glided down, or
+you would have heard me.  I came to and for a moment could not
+understand why I was there.  Then all came back with overwhelming force,
+and I crept back to the panel to look through.
+
+"You were returning from the door, and the next moment were standing by
+the body, with the pistol in your hand, apparently unharmed; and then,
+to my horror, it seemed as if you were about to use the weapon upon
+yourself; but to my intense relief I saw you thrust it into your pocket,
+and then stand by the body as if bereft of sense, utterly helpless as to
+what course to pursue.  While sharing your misery I forgot my intentions
+of seeking help; and, nerving myself for the encounter, I was about to
+come round, but your looks chained me to the spot, and, utterly helpless
+now, I stayed there watching your wild, countenance and reading its
+meaning, as with an eager, hunted look you went to the outer door,
+opened it, and stood looking down.  Then carefully closing both, you
+went to the window to peer out furtively from the side of the blind, as
+if to make out whether by any possibility anyone could have overlooked
+the scene.
+
+"I knew that you had some plan in mind by your actions, and it rapidly
+dawned on me what it was, as, like one suffering from nightmare I stood
+watching, with the cold sweat gathering on my face, as I saw you go
+toward the other side of the fireplace, come into sight again and take a
+chair in the same direction.
+
+"I soon divined, though, that it was to hold open the door, and now came
+the horror of the scene."
+
+Stratton uttered a low groan as he sat there with his face buried in his
+hands, and Brettison went on:
+
+"It was all clear to me now.  You were seeking for a way out of your
+terrible dilemma by concealing the body, and I looked on, speechless
+with horror, as I saw you stoop to seize the arms, droop forward, and
+fall across the chest."
+
+"I was faint from my hurt," said Stratton, almost in a whisper.
+
+"But you rose directly, and I saw you drag the body toward the door of
+your bathroom and, as if drawn there to know the rest, I came back here
+and stood listening by that loose panel, where the scene stood out as
+vividly before me as if I were in the same room."
+
+Stratton groaned, while, excited by his narration, Brettison went on:
+
+"You were evidently faint still, and weak, for I heard you stop again
+and again, only to resume the dreadful task of dragging the body along
+the floor, till at last you stood within a few feet of me, and I could
+hear your laboured breathing for a few minutes, followed by a sound that
+I knew to be the throwing back of the bath lid; and then followed what
+you know--that horrible struggle with a weight with which you were not
+fit to cope.  A minute later the lid was closed and you shut and locked
+the bath-closet door, while I sat down, faint and exhausted, to try and
+think out what I should do.
+
+"I must have sat there for a long time, for I was roused by the sound of
+voices in your room, and heard the scene that took place with the
+admiral.  I knew that you fainted, and that Guest tried the door which
+you had locked; and I shuddered as I thought of what that place
+contained, and how easily the discovery might follow.
+
+"By this time I had made up my mind how to act; and, after stealing out
+to get the necessary tools, I waited my time and set to work.  It was a
+long task, for I had to work and not make a sound; but the old fastening
+soon gave way, and I drew the door open and stood shivering in the
+narrow place, with yours and Guest's words coming plainly to me.
+
+"At times you were angry, at other times Guest spoke loudly, and twice
+over he had the outer door open to talk to people on the landing.
+
+"Those were my opportunities, and, helped by strength I did not think I
+possessed, I worked on, dragging the body out inch by inch, and lowering
+him down.  A dozen times over I felt that I must be heard, but you were
+both too intent upon yourselves, and your words often rose to a quarrel
+on one side, and, as I said, at such times I worked, till at last I bore
+the man through the door and laid him there."
+
+He pointed to the heavy rug in front of the fireplace, and, as if
+fascinated, Stratton gazed at the spot.
+
+"The rest of the task was lighter for the moment; I had but to close the
+door, and secure it slightly.  I left the proper fastening up till a
+future time, and I'll tell you that now--the fastening up took place at
+the time when you were working shudderingly in the dark, taking in cans
+of spirit, and pouring them gurgling and echoing into the bath; and I
+heard all this, and the final screwing down of the lid and screwing up
+of your door.  I tell you I heard it all, boy, and still worked on in
+your service."
+
+"In my service?" said Stratton blankly.
+
+"Yes.  Why did I do all this?  Did I not know that, in spite of all your
+scheming and precautions, sooner or later the discovery must be made.
+Was I to let you live on with that horror waiting always at your elbow,
+driving you mad with dread, as I felt it was bound to do?  It was for
+your sake, boy, that I fought as I did, and brought your victim out
+here."
+
+"But tell me--what did you mean to do?"
+
+"How can I, when my own ideas were all vague and strange, as I sat there
+that night with this,"--he tapped his water-pipe--"and tried to hit on
+some plan; and somehow the horror passed away, and I felt no fear of the
+poor wretch lying there before me.  I wondered at myself--that I could
+sit there so calmly smoking, in the face of all that had passed; but I
+did, for I said to myself, `What is death, after all, but sleep?'
+
+"So I sat and thought, much as a man would under the circumstances--much
+as you did--and I felt that I had done right in this my first step
+toward saving you from the pain and suffering that was sure to come; for
+I had no doubt of the discovery.  Then I argued that such a wretch was
+worthless, and that, even dead, he ought not to have the power to injure
+two people whom I loved.  I knew that you meant to hide your--"
+
+"Crime," interposed Stratton.
+
+"I never looked upon it as a crime.  Let us call it your misfortune in
+slaying another in the effort to save your own life.  There, then, was
+my position.  I had gone so far; and, difficult as the task had seemed,
+the task was easy beside that which was to come."
+
+"Tell me what you did," said Stratton hoarsely.
+
+"I tell you I sat down to think," said Brettison coolly, "and the more I
+thought the more impossible the task seemed to grow.  I told myself that
+it must be done--that body must be concealed where no prying eyes could
+find it, and so that he who hid it could never be forced to bear the
+blame.
+
+"If the poor wretch were discovered, it did not matter, thought I--no
+one would know him.  Even if it was found who he was, it did not matter;
+for, I tell you, I felt no compunction, and I told myself that in time
+you would get over the shock and might be happy after all; for I said
+that you would have no greater cause for self-reproach than the soldier
+who slays an enemy to save his own life.
+
+"What, then, could I do?  Get the poor wretch carried down to a cab,
+have him borne to a hospital, and escape in the bustle of the ambulance
+being brought to him?
+
+"That meant discovery, I felt sure.  And I thought of the streets by
+night.  In all probability, no one had seen him come up to the chambers;
+but I was damped directly there; for those who carried the man down
+would be able to tell whence he came, and hundreds would be glad to play
+the amateur detective and hunt me down.
+
+"On all hands I was checked," continued Brettison, "and I could not help
+thinking, as I found myself hedged in by obstacles, how much safer we
+all are in London than we think.  The difficulty seemed to increase, and
+at last I began to recall the story in the `Arabian Nights' about the
+man choking himself to death with a bone, and the trouble his host had
+to dispose of the body.  You remember about how they propped it up
+against another man's door, so that he knocked it down and imagined that
+he had killed the intruder.  I fancied myself carrying the man into the
+streets myself, but I did not."
+
+Brettison said all this in so careless and jaunty a manner, that
+Stratton raised his head and gazed at him in horror and disgust.  For
+how could he treat so terrible an event so lightly, and discourse of all
+his thoughts as they came to him with the body lying on the rug just at
+his feet.
+
+Stratton's look had its effect, for Brettison became a little uneasy.
+
+"Ah, I see you are shocked at my way of treating the matter.  Well, I
+suppose I am wrong.  It is all fresh and terrible to you; it has no
+repulsion for me now.  I am only able to look back upon it all as a
+curious experience of life--a singular turn of the wheel--by which I, a
+retiring, simple-minded botanist, whose greatest excitement was the
+discovery of a fresh herb or plant new to England, suddenly found
+himself playing the part of accomplice to one who had taken another's
+life."
+
+"Accomplice?" faltered Stratton.
+
+"Of course.  The law would treat me as being so.  Was I not trying to
+dispose of the body of the victim so as to screen you from discovery?
+Oh, yes; an accomplice.  Yes, I argued to myself that the man died by
+his own hand, and that I was working for your happiness."
+
+"For Heaven's sake, Brettison, don't talk like this!" cried Stratton,
+almost fiercely.  "It is too horrible!"
+
+"You think so," said the old man, with a faint smile of amusement.  "Ah,
+well! we view these things from different points."
+
+"Tell me at once what you did--with it."
+
+"Let me tell you my own way.  Old men are tedious, Stratton, and I am, I
+suppose, no exception to the rule.  However, I will be brief, for I am
+torturing you, I fear.  I racked my brains for hours and evoked dozens
+of plans, but there was always some terrible obstacle in the way, and at
+last I sat back here in utter despair, seeing nothing but the plain fact
+before me--that your wisdom was greater than mine, and that the only way
+out of the difficulty was the one you had chosen--to restore the body to
+the hiding-place in there.
+
+"It was miserably humiliating, but I could do no more.  It was madness
+to keep the poor wretch where I had laid him; discovery might come at
+any time.  Once I thought of leaving him there and going away myself--
+disappearing, as it were, from the world.  I could keep my chambers
+untouched for months--perhaps years--by sending a cheque to the agent
+from time to time.  But I knew that this must end in discovery.  An
+unforeseen event might result in the chambers being opened and searched,
+and, in all probability, the dead might take revenge and prove our
+betrayer--you, as a naturalist, know how.
+
+"I gave that up, then, like the rest, and, in utter despair, began to
+unfasten the door again, drew it open, listened, and all was still.  You
+and Guest were, in all probability, asleep.
+
+"Going back to the hearthrug, sick and in disgust, I stooped down to
+reverse my repulsive task, when, as I touched the body and half raised
+his head and shoulders from the floor, like a flash of lightning, the
+way out of the difficulty came.  Then, overcome by my emotion, I
+literally reeled into my bedroom like a drunken man, and dropped upon my
+knees by my pillow in the thankfulness of my heart, though it was long
+before I could utter other words than--`Heaven, I thank thee!  My poor
+lad is saved.'"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.
+
+THE REVELATION CONTINUED--A LIGHTNING STROKE.
+
+The moment before these last words escaped from Brettison's lips
+Stratton had been sitting there with his elbows on the table, his face
+worn, haggard, and full of horror and disgust; but now the interest in
+his old friend's statement returned, and he watched him eagerly.  The
+explanation was coming at last.  The half-cynical, indifferent manner,
+too, had passed away, as he continued:
+
+"I came back to this very chair, Stratton, trembling and agitated as I
+had never been before, to stoop down at once, and then go upon one knee
+there--there on the rug.  His head was just there, boy, and his face a
+little on one side, so that the profile of the vile scoundrel stood out,
+clearly cut, against the background of dark chocolate wood."
+
+Brettison's manner was now excited, his words low and hoarse, and his
+manner had proved contagious; for Stratton's lips parted, and he leaned
+over toward the speaker.
+
+"For a few minutes I could do no more," continued Brettison.  "A
+horrible dread assailed me--that I had been deceived--that the door I
+had, in imagination, seen open before me had closed again, and that I
+was once more shut in with the terrible difficulty.  But, nerving myself
+again, I passed one arm beneath the shoulders as before, raised him a
+little, and once more there was a low moan."
+
+"What?" cried Stratton wildly, as he started from his seat.
+
+"Wait patiently, and you shall hear," said Brettison; then, drawing a
+panting breath, as if the effort of recalling the terrible scene, with
+its excitement, was almost more than he could bear, he went on:
+
+"I lowered him again, not daring to think that he was alive, knowing
+that the sound might have been caused by the escape of a little air from
+the cavity of the chest.  For a few minutes I was sure that this was so,
+and my hopes were all dashed again.  People have called me a learned
+man, Malcolm; but, before a difficulty like that, I was a poor,
+helpless, ignorant child.
+
+"Mastering myself, though, at last, I thrust my hand into his breast;
+but I could feel nothing.  I fancied there was a pulsation, but could
+not tell but that it might be caused by my own throbbing arteries.  I
+tried the wrists, and then, tearing open the collar of his shirt, thrust
+my hand in there, and the pulsation was plain now.  More, I distinctly
+felt a throb, as a low moan once more escaped from the man's lips."
+
+"Not dead?" gasped Stratton.  "Her husband!  Living?  Great Heavens!"
+
+He sank back into his chair, staring wildly; and then, in a hoarse
+whisper:
+
+"Go on!" he panted, "go on!"
+
+"The way of escape was open widely now," cried Brettison, reaching over
+to clutch his companion's wrist, "and I could see my way clearly.  It
+was madness to attempt to move the body of a dead man through the
+streets, boy--detection was certain; but to take a sick or injured man
+from one place to another was simplicity itself, and I breathed freely.
+I could act."
+
+"Not dead--not dead!" muttered Stratton, who looked as if he had
+received some terrible mental blow, which had confused his faculties and
+made the effort of following his old friend's narrative almost beyond
+his powers.
+
+"I closed that door at once, in dread now lest the moans should have
+been heard; and, able to grasp the position, I could work coolly enough.
+Going down on my knees with sponge and basin, I soon found that there
+was a small orifice behind the right ear.  This had bled freely, but it
+had ceased; and, grasping at once that the bullet had gone upward, I
+examined next to find its place of exit.
+
+"There was none.  The bullet was, in all probability, still in the head.
+
+"He moaned a little as I bathed away all traces of the injury; and when
+I had done, save that tiny orifice just behind the ear, there was
+nothing to show that he was not sleeping, for the face was quite
+composed.
+
+"What to do next?  Not a moment, I felt, must be lost, if I wished to
+save his life; and, with a feeling of grim cynicism, I asked myself
+whether I did.  For I was in a dilemma.  On the one hand, if I saved
+him, it cleared you from what might devolve into a charge of murder; on
+the other hand, if I let him die, Myra would be free, and some day--"
+
+"No, no, impossible!" groaned Stratton.  "Go on."
+
+"I could not decide what I ought to do at first, for--I confess it--I
+was dragged both ways; but I took the right road, Stratton.
+
+"It was late, but it was a case of emergency, and the man's face helped
+me to the tale I meant to tell.  There was the swollen nose and there
+were the pimply blotches of the man who drank.  That was sufficient for
+me; and with a strength of which I did not believe myself capable, I
+dragged him by the shoulders into my bedroom and locked him in.  Then,
+taking my hat, I made my way out unseen, took a cab, and had myself
+driven to the house of an old servant, who was a pensioner of mine in
+South London.  She was just about to retire for the night, but readily
+made preparations for the reception of an unfortunate friend of mine who
+had met with an accident, while I hurried back, discharged my cab, took
+a fresh one--the man, for ample pay, being willing enough to undertake
+my task, and soon found for me a strong helper.
+
+"The rest was easy.  I lied to them, and, on taking the man up with me,
+left him in my room, while I went into the chamber, trembling lest I
+should find our enemy was dead.
+
+"But he was lying back as I had left him, on a lounge, and I returned to
+the fellow I had brought up.  I gave the man brandy, took a glass
+myself, and, before utilising the help I had brought, purposely
+sprinkled the wounded man with spirit--a hint being sufficient to direct
+the helper's thoughts into the channel that this person he was to help
+to the cab was a victim to _delirium tremens_, for the face was evidence
+enough.
+
+"My new companion was to have a sovereign for his pains, so he found no
+cause to object; and when I offered to help laughingly put me aside.
+
+"`Oh, I can carry him,' he said, `like a baby.'
+
+"A bold, indifferent manner was all, I felt, that was necessary; and
+fortune favoured me, for we did not pass a soul, and the placing of an
+apparently tipsy man in a four-wheel cab was not novelty enough to
+excite the interest of passers-by.  I was quite right, I tell you; a
+bold, careless front carried all before it, and in a very few minutes I
+had left my chambers locked up, the helper was on the box seat, and we
+were rolled over Blackfriars Bridge to my old servant's house.
+
+"Here he was carried in, and old Mary shook her head at the scent of the
+spirits, but assisted willingly till my charge was laid upon the bed,
+the cabman and his companion dismissed, and then the doctor was
+fetched."
+
+"Hah!" ejaculated Stratton, as he wiped the great drops of sweat from
+his brow.
+
+"You are faint," said Brettison anxiously.
+
+"Sick almost unto death," said Stratton hoarsely.
+
+The old man rose and crossed to an old brass-bound cellarette, which he
+opened.
+
+"No, no," cried Stratton excitedly; "go on, man, go on.  You are
+torturing me.  Let me know the worst--or the best," he cried with a
+bitter laugh.  "Ought I to wish his life to be saved, and, know that I
+am not a murderer?"
+
+"A man is no murderer who slays another in defence of his own life,"
+said Brettison calmly, getting out an old spirit decanter and glasses.
+
+"Leave that," cried Stratton, pushing away the glass his friend placed
+before him.  "Go on--go on!"
+
+"No," said Brettison sternly; "you need the stimulus now."
+
+"Man, have you no feeling for me at such an anguish point as this?"
+
+"Man, have you no feeling for one who is old and infirm, and who has
+shortened his poor share of life in his efforts to save you from the
+misery of your lot?"
+
+"Forgive me," groaned Stratton.  "I am not what I was, Brettison."
+
+"No man could go through such a crucial passage in his life and come out
+the same," was the quiet reply.  "There, drink that.  I do not indulge
+in these things, as you know; but I am faint, and it is hard work to
+collect one's thoughts."
+
+He poured out two little glasses of the contents of the old decanter,
+and drank one--Stratton, whose temples were throbbing, and whose hand
+trembled in a palsied way, following his example.
+
+"Now," he said, "go on.  I am in misery."
+
+"You must know all.  I must tell it in my own way, for my mind is
+confused all through with doubts as to whether I was right in keeping
+you in ignorance of all this.  I did not see it before; I do see it
+now."
+
+He looked upon Stratton's worn and aged face with a look full of pity
+and compunction.
+
+"I acted for the best, my boy," he said--"I acted for the best; but I
+feel that I have been, in my zeal, half-mad.  Still at such a time a man
+cannot be cool-blooded, and act as he would after longer thought."
+
+Then, as he saw Stratton's hands raised:
+
+"The doctor came, saw the patient, and made his examination carefully,
+ending by applying proper bandages to the wound, while Barron lay
+perfectly insensible, only uttering a low moan now and then, as if he
+felt pain when touched; otherwise he lay quite calmly, as if asleep.
+
+"And as the doctor busied himself he asked no questions; but, as if he
+were influenced by my thoughts as I stood by him, watching him and
+waiting to give him a garbled--there, a lying--version of the incident,
+he at last took the very view as I wished to convey it to him by words.
+
+"`A bad case, sir,' he said at last.  `I can do no more now.  The bullet
+is evidently deeply imbedded.  I will not take the risk of probing for
+it.  Shall I get one of our eminent specialists in consultation?'
+
+"I shook my head.
+
+"`Fatal?'  I said at last.
+
+"He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"`Must speak plainly, sir,' he said.  `It is of no use to talk of hope
+to a man when one feels that there can be none.  Poor fellow, his face
+tells the tale plainly enough.  Drink.  Stimulus after stimulus till the
+brandy, or whatever it is, ceases to have its effect.  I knew one poor
+fellow who used to heat brandy over a spirit lamp to make its effect
+more rapid.  Yes, ceases to have its effect, and more is used.  Then the
+digestive powers break down, the over-goaded brain leaps from its
+bounds, and we have the delirium that ends in men feeling that life is
+not worth living, and makes them suicidal like this.'"
+
+"You remember the very words?" said Stratton, looking at his friend
+wonderingly.
+
+"Word for word," said Brettison slowly, "and always shall.  I remember,
+too, the thrill of horror that ran through my nerves as he stood for a
+few moments with his back to me, between me and the bed, bending first
+over his patient, and then straightening himself up and raising one
+arm--his right--with the fist clenched, all but the index finger, which
+he passed over his shoulder to touch, with the point of the finger, the
+spot behind his own ear where the bullet had entered.
+
+"For a few moments I did not understand his gesture; then I grasped the
+fact, and followed his thoughts.  He was, in imagination, holding a
+pistol to his head as he thought his patient must have held it when the
+trigger was drawn.  He had completely taken my view that I wished to
+impart, and he was thinking of the inquest and the evidence he would
+have to give."
+
+Stratton looked at him for a few moments with dilated eyes.
+
+At last he spoke, for Brettison had become wrapped in thought, and sat
+gazing before him, as if seeing the whole horror once again.
+
+"And did he," said Stratton, in broken words, "attend him--to the end;
+did he say--at the inquest--that it was suicide?"
+
+"No," said Brettison, looking up with a start from his musings, and
+watching the effect of his words on his companion; "he tended him, but
+James Dale, or Barron, did not die.  He is living now."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.
+
+BRETTISON IS MYSTERIOUS.
+
+"James Barron living now?" cried Stratton excitedly.  "Thank Heaven!"
+
+But as the words left his lips his whole manner changed.  His face had
+lighted up at Brettison's announcement, for the knowledge that he was
+not answerable for the convict's death--that he had not slain the
+husband of the woman he loved--was a tremendous weight, which had
+crushed him down, suddenly removed; but, like a sudden, scathing flash,
+came the horror of Myra's position once more.
+
+There was no selfishness in the feeling; his thoughts were solely of and
+for her.  That man still lived, and she was his wife--tied to an escaped
+convict, and at his mercy, unless Brettison had done his duty and handed
+him over to the authorities.  But with his sympathetic feeling for her,
+there came over him a sense of overwhelming despair at his own helpless
+position.
+
+He passed his hand across his eyes, threw up his head, and seemed more
+like the old Malcolm Stratton, as he held out his hand to his friend,
+took that which was eagerly extended to him, and the two men sat, hand
+grasped in hand, silently for the space of some minutes.
+
+Brettison was the first to speak.
+
+"Then you think, in spite of all, I did wisely?"
+
+"I think you saved that man's life," said Stratton with a faint, sad
+smile upon his lip.  "But for you I must have gone to the grave with
+that knowledge always on my brain.  You have spared me that.  I can
+sleep without waking to think of that man's blood being on my hands."
+
+"And there is hope for you yet," whispered Brettison earnestly.
+
+"Where?" said Stratton mournfully.  "In the other world?"
+
+"Bah!  Despairing at your age?  Why, man, this life is full of change
+and surprise.  Nothing comes to pass so often as the unexpected."
+
+Stratton shook his head.
+
+"What!  Doubting, in the face of all I have told you just now?  Why,
+man, my news must have come upon you like a miracle.  Come, I shall see
+you and Myra happy yet."
+
+"Silence!" cried Stratton sternly.  "Impossible!  All that is past.
+Brettison, I accept my fate in all thankfulness for what I know.  If
+Myra and I ever meet again, I can take her hand and look her calmly in
+the eyes.  I know my position now; and, thank God, I am once more a
+man--free from the great horror of my life.  Now, tell me.  The man
+recovered from his wound?"
+
+"Yes," said Brettison, looking at Stratton curiously, "he is quite
+recovered from that; only much changed."
+
+"You have seen him lately, then?" cried Stratton eagerly.
+
+"Yes; not many hours since."
+
+"Brettison!"
+
+"Yes?  Why do you start like that?"
+
+"Then you have not handed him over to the authorities?"
+
+"No.  Why should I?"
+
+"Man, you ask me that?  You leave him free to go yonder and make her
+life a burden?"
+
+"I did not say so," replied Brettison calmly.  "Suppose I had handed the
+man over to the authorities, what then?  The news would have been in
+every paper of the convict's marvellous escape from death.  Pleasant
+reading for the Bourne Square breakfast table.  Surely that poor girl
+has suffered enough?"
+
+Stratton gazed at him wildly.
+
+"I thought it all out, and I said to myself: `James Dale, or Barron,
+died that night to the world, when he escaped from the convict prison.
+Why should I bring him to life?  For everyone's sake, let him be dead
+still.'"
+
+"Impossible!" cried Stratton.  "The man will take advantage of his
+freedom, and Myra's position must become intolerable.  You have done
+wrong, sir.  He must be given up at once."
+
+"But the knowledge of what has passed must reach Myra's ears, and the
+pain and agony of spirit it will cause will be more than she can bear."
+
+Stratton groaned.
+
+"And don't you see you are cutting the last piece of ground from beneath
+your feet--letting yourself sink at once into a slough of despond?"
+
+"Don't tempt me, man!" cried Stratton angrily.  "Heaven knows how weak I
+am, and how gladly I would fall in with your ideas, but they are
+impossible.  You must be mad to propose them."
+
+"Perhaps so," said Brettison.  "I often think I must be a little
+wanting, now.  But, Malcolm, my boy, think of yourself.  If Myra knows
+that this man is still living, she will never see you again."
+
+"Never," said Stratton firmly; "but she will get to know the reason of
+my conduct on that day, and I shall be forgiven for playing the part I
+did.  She will know all this and forgive me.  That is my reward.  I tell
+you, I accept my position.  James Barron must be given up."
+
+"You are determined upon that?"
+
+"Yes.  It was my decision that morning before the struggle.  It was the
+only course for an honourable man.  What was right then must be doubly
+right now.  If Myra were here, she would bid me act as I propose, even
+if it broke her heart."
+
+"Even if it broke her heart," said Brettison thoughtfully.  "I'm afraid
+I should sin deeply sooner than let her break her heart."
+
+"Brettison!" cried Stratton; "is my old friend to become my tempter now
+at another crisis in my life?  But you do not mean it.  You are trying
+me.  Come, I have been tried enough.  You seem to have given me a new
+lease of life.  Let us have no more trifling with duty; we have both
+suffered enough.  Tell me, where is this man?"
+
+Brettison was silent for a few moments, and then looked up quietly.
+
+"I will tell you soon.  First of all, you are judging too hastily."
+
+"No; I am saying what is right."
+
+"Under certain circumstances; but you do not know all yet."
+
+"What!  Have you kept something back?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"First, tell me where is this man.  He has been in your charge ever
+since his recovery."
+
+"From the wound?  Yes."
+
+"And he submits to your dictation--to your rule?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Because he fears that you will give him up?"
+
+"No; he does not fear that.  But listen to me; you shall not judge too
+hastily.  Wait till you know all my reasons."
+
+"Tell me them."
+
+"Not now."
+
+"When, then?"
+
+"After you have seen James Barron."
+
+"Seen him?  Meet that man again?" cried Stratton, with a look of horror.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"No; it is my wish--my prayer.  Come with me and see him.  Then you
+shall decide what should be done; and I give you my word that I will
+follow out your wishes to the letter."
+
+"You promise that?"
+
+Brettison gave him his hand in token of his promise, and Stratton stood
+thinking for a moment or two.
+
+"Yes," he said then, "I have no cause to fear.  It is cowardly to
+refuse.  When shall the meeting be?"
+
+"To-morrow."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY SIX.
+
+A DOUBLE SURPRISE.
+
+Land was not so valuable when Queen Charlotte's Road was built, and
+people who directed letters to their friends in that locality did not
+then place the letters "S.E." at the bottom of the address.  In fact, so
+low in price was the land that the speculative builder of that day--
+whose name, by the way, was not Jeremiah, or Jerry, for the houses are
+still standing--gave to each of the double-barrelled, or semi-detached
+cottages, a goodly piece of garden back and front; and, instead of
+piling up so many rooms by the side of a fire-escape sort of staircase,
+planted them, for the most part, side by side, and ran a good broad
+veranda along the front.  He or his tenants planted trees as well--trees
+that once gave the straight broad road which ran down to the strawberry
+and rhubarb fields quite a countrified air.
+
+The houses are there still, but many of them have been found substantial
+enough to bear a couple of floors on the top of the old structure; and
+some of the trees are still in their old places--vigorous old fellows of
+artful nature, who declined to trust their roots where they would be
+poisoned by the company's gas mains or cut off by the picks and shovels
+of the navvies at work on the main drainage scheme.  Consequently, they
+lived, though in a sad, decrepit, mutilated way; bent back, beheaded,
+carved and cropped--limbless dwarfs, for the most part, but always ready
+to put forth plenty of tender, green leaves in the spring-time, and to
+make a litter of the dead early in the autumn, while the country trees
+were still in full costume.
+
+The road--which ran at right angles out of what was once a highly
+respectable retired-tradesman thoroughfare, with gardens rich in lilac
+and laburnum, now all busy shops--no longer lost itself in rhubarb
+gardens, but was carried on through miles of crowded streets; and it was
+through these, by an ingenious short cut and long fare process, that a
+hansom cab was being driven, till Queen Charlotte's Road was reached,
+and a signal given for the man to stop by a semaphore use of Brettison's
+gouty umbrella.
+
+Stratton gazed wonderingly at the neat, green-verandahed cottage,
+half-hidden by the cropped trees and a well kept privet hedge, and noted
+as they entered the gate that there was a cane armchair just outside the
+French window, sheltered by the broad veranda, and that there were many
+wheel-marks on the gravel, suggestive of perambulators and children;
+but, in its well painted, clean windows, carefully tended garden, and
+general aspect of comfort, the place was anything but that where
+Stratton had expected to find an escaped convict confined.
+
+Hardly a word had been said during the drive out, but Stratton had quite
+made up his mind what to do.  He felt that he would be running counter
+to his friend's wishes, and might seem unmerciful, but at the cost of
+any suffering to Myra he felt that it was the best thing, and would
+result in saving her future cares.
+
+They were met at the door by the comely looking grey-haired woman who
+had played the part of nurse, and she drew back, smiling, to show them
+into a cheerful sitting room, well-furnished, with a canary on one side
+of the window and a particularly sage-looking starling in a wicker cage
+on the other.
+
+"Ah, Dick!" said Brettison, rubbing his finger along the sides of the
+canary's cage.  "Well, Jack!"
+
+The yellow bird burst into song, and the speckled starling uttered a
+sharp, jarring sound, and set up all its sharp-pointed, prickly looking
+plumes till it resembled a feathered porcupine.
+
+"Not such an uncomfortable place for a man to live in, eh?" said
+Brettison cheerily.  "Better than our dull, dusty chambers, eh?"
+
+Stratton's eyes were wandering about, noting a clay tobacco pipe on the
+hob, a jar on the table, and an easy-chair and spittoon by the
+fireplace, while flowers were in a vase on the table, and a couple of
+solemn looking, swollen-eyed, pompous goldfish sailed round and round
+their little crystal globe, as if it were their world, and nothing
+outside were of the least consequence, unless it might have been the fat
+cat, with fish-hook claws, half asleep where the sun made a patch on the
+stone outside the French window.
+
+"Like this place better than the old street, eh, Mary?" said Brettison.
+
+"Oh, indeed yes, sir!  It's quite like being in the country, and yet
+with all the advantages of town."
+
+"As the house agent said in his advertisement, eh?  Well, where is Mr
+Cousin?"
+
+"Only gone to get his morning shave, sir.  He'll be back soon."
+
+"Humph!  Pretty well?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir; he's nicely, thank you.  Really, sir, I don't think he
+wants the chair at all.  It's only because he likes it and has grown
+used to it."
+
+"Yes, yes; I suppose so.  Creatures of habit, Mary.  Want any money--any
+rates or taxes due?  Coal cellar all right--want another ton?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir, thank you.  I haven't near got through the last money
+yet."
+
+"Mary, you're a paragon of economy," said Brettison.  "There, that will
+do now.  I'll sit down and have a chat with my friend till he comes
+back."
+
+There was a smile and a courtesy, and the woman withdrew.
+
+"Sit down, my dear boy.  No use to make a labour of our task.  Not bad
+quarters, eh?  Not to be changed lightly for the locks and bars of The
+Foreland, eh?"
+
+Stratton looked at him reproachfully.
+
+"Are you not taking all this too lightly?" he said.
+
+"Oh, I hope not.  But we shall see.  I'm afraid that I should never have
+done for a judge, Malcolm.  I should have let all the prisoners off with
+light sentences.  Ah, here he comes!"
+
+For there was the sound of wheels, a faint creaking, and from where
+Stratton sat, with his back to the window, he could hear the brushing of
+a light vehicle against the shrubs, as it was evidently being pushed up
+to the side door.
+
+Stratton's first impulse was to turn round and gaze out at the man he
+had come to see, but he mastered his desire and sat up rigidly, with his
+eyes fixed upon the door, and the scenes of the past flitting before him
+in a rapid sequence.  Now he was listening to the flushed, coarse
+looking, brutalised scoundrel, boasting of his position and power to
+wreck the future of a beautiful, innocent woman; then they were talking
+fiercely together, and there was the struggle.  And, again, that
+horrible scene--with the smoke gradually spreading through the room,
+while Barron lay prone upon the carpet, with a little thread of blood
+slowly trickling down from behind his ear.  This gave place, as there
+was a rustling in the entry, to a picture of the moments when there was
+another terrible rustling as he dragged the body into the bath-closet
+and strove so hard to hide all traces of the catastrophe.
+
+Then the door slowly opened, there was the thumping of a couple of
+sticks, and, in utter astonishment, Stratton was gazing at a
+grey-haired, cleanly shaven, heavy looking man, whose pallid face had a
+peculiar, inanimate aspect, and who came in, making no sign of
+recognition, but walked slowly across the room to the easy-chair by the
+fireside.  He stood his two crutch-handled sticks by the mantelpiece,
+and subsided into the chair with a sigh of content, and began passing
+his hand over his smoothly shaven face, as if in search of stubble that
+the razor had missed.
+
+Stratton was astounded.  He had expected an angry start as a precursor
+to a fierce scene between them; but the man paid not the slightest heed
+to either of the visitors.  There was a dreamy look in his lack-lustre
+eyes, and his heavy lips moved slightly, as if he were whispering to
+himself.
+
+The man seemed to be imbecile, and Stratton grasped now his friend's
+object in bringing them face to face.  It was to show him how little so
+mindless a creature ought to influence the future of two people's lives,
+and to consult with him as to what ought to be done.
+
+Brettison watched his friend closely to see what effect the meeting had
+upon him, but directly after he was as keenly noting every movement and
+look of James Barron, to see if there was the slightest shade of
+recognition.
+
+At last, apparently satisfied, he said aloud:
+
+"Well, Mr Cousin, been for your morning visit?"
+
+Barron seemed as if an appeal to his ear was the way to attract his
+attention, and not to the eyes; for he looked up with a slight display
+of animation, and he nodded.
+
+"Yes," he said, "been to get shaved--been to get shaved."
+
+He reached over to the fireplace and took the pipe, tapped it slowly on
+the hob, sat back, passed his hand over his face again in search of the
+stubble, and then leaned forward to get the jar from the table; after
+which he began to fill his pipe by pinching out a sufficient quantity
+from the jar, placing it in his left palm; and applying the opening of
+the bowl thereto, worked it round and round till the whole of the
+tobacco had been worked in, when, after a finishing pressure with one
+finger, he took a match-box from his pocket and began to smoke in placid
+content.
+
+Brettison still watched his friend intently, to see the effect of all
+this upon him; and after a quick and meaning glance, he turned to
+Barron.
+
+"Tobacco good?" he said,
+
+"Tobacco?  Yes, capital tobacco.  Have a pipe?"
+
+"Not now.  I've brought a friend to see you."
+
+"Friend?  Where is he?" said Barron, peering round through the smoke.
+"Ho, there!  How do--how do?  Have a pipe?"
+
+Stratton made no reply, but gazed at the man in horror.
+
+"Never been shot, I suppose?" said Barron suddenly.
+
+Stratton started as if he had been stung.
+
+"No, no," said Brettison hastily.  "My friend has never been shot."
+
+"Ho! pity.  Can't grasp it, then.  You've never been shot either, but
+you do.  Wonderful case mine, eh?"
+
+"Yes, very," said Brettison.
+
+"Can't find the bullet, you know.  Big bullet shot me; I want it to have
+it set for my watch chain--I say."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Doctor's very proud of me, eh!"
+
+"Yes; he considers yours a wonderful case."
+
+"Yes; wonderful case."
+
+"How did it happen?" said Brettison, with a glance at his friend.
+
+"Happen?  Ah!  I can't find out how it happened.  Must have been before
+I was born."
+
+This last in a very thoughtful tone; and then, more loudly:
+
+"Of course, if it had happened since, I should have known, eh?"
+
+"Very probably," said Brettison.
+
+"I often try to think about it; but it don't matter.  I say."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Doctor's very proud of my case, isn't he?"
+
+"Oh, yes, very."
+
+"Don't think he has stolen the bullet, do you?"
+
+"Oh, no, no; not likely."
+
+"No, of course not," said Barron thoughtfully, as he sank back in his
+chair and went on smoking.
+
+Brettison spoke to him again and again, but his words had not the
+slightest effect; the man seemed perfectly unconscious of all that was
+said, and at last there was a tap at the door, and the nurse entered
+with a tray, and a little tureen of beef tea, with thin slices of toast.
+
+"He always has this, sir, about this time," said the nurse
+apologetically, "and the doctor said that it must be given regularly."
+
+"Quite right, Mary.  Of course."
+
+"He has been talking a little, sir?"
+
+"Oh, yes, for a time, and then he finished; and we have not had a word
+since."
+
+"No, sir, and you would not till to-morrow now, when he'll wake up a
+little again, and talk about what a wonderful case his is."
+
+"Poor fellow!" said Brettison compassionately.
+
+"And he always seems to have got that bullet on his brain, sir."
+
+"Naturally," muttered Brettison.
+
+"And, if you'll believe me, sir, if he didn't ask me to confess
+yesterday that I'd stolen it to show to people, because his was such a
+curious case."
+
+Stratton glanced at the man seated there, still smoking placidly, and
+evidently not grasping a word that was said.
+
+The tray was taken to him, and he submitted to the pipe being removed
+from his hand, after which, in perfect silence, and in the most
+mechanical manner, he went on with his meal, while, after a few more
+words with the nurse, Brettison led the way out into the road, and he
+and Stratton went back toward the West End.
+
+"Now," said Brettison at last, "you have seen our deadly enemy--the
+being who crushes down the future of two people I love.  What do you
+say?"
+
+Stratton was silent for a few moments.
+
+"Will he recover?" he said at last.
+
+"Not in this world.  The bullet lodged somewhere about the brain, and it
+has produced, by its pressure, this peculiar form of imbecility.  The
+past is an utter blank to him, and it is only for a short time every
+morning that he has the power of expressing himself at all."
+
+"You feel certain that he will not recover?"
+
+"I have had the opinions of two of our most famous specialists, and they
+say it is impossible.  The man is, to all intents and purposes, mentally
+dead.  Now, then, as an enemy, Myra has no cause to fear him."
+
+"None."
+
+"He can never trouble you or her for blackmail, even if he had dared,
+after what has passed; so I think he may be left out of the question
+altogether.  You will not, I am sure, think of handing the man over to
+the police."
+
+Stratton was silent for a few moments.
+
+"No," he said at last; "it is impossible."
+
+"I thought you would feel like this," said Brettison.  "Let the poor
+wretch end his days in peace."
+
+"At your cost?" said Stratton sharply.
+
+"Oh, pooh!  A mere nothing, my dear boy," cried Brettison; "and I am not
+poor."
+
+"I cannot allow that," said Stratton, after a few moments' thought; "and
+we must do something else.  There should be no risk of those two ever
+coming face to face again."
+
+"Well, is it likely?  West End and East End do not often mix."
+
+"No, but there is always the possibility.  An accident might bring Myra
+to some spot where he had been taken.  Who can guard against such
+things?"
+
+"None of us; but I thought I had taken precautions enough."
+
+"But we must take the greatest," said Stratton excitedly.
+
+"What would you do?"
+
+Stratton made no reply, and seemed so plunged in thought that Brettison
+respected his silence, and they rode back together, with the old man's
+face lighting up as he felt more at rest and satisfied with the way in
+which matters had shaped themselves.
+
+They reached the narrow entrance to the inn in due course, and Stratton
+led the way up into his chambers, closed the door, and pointed to a
+seat, but kept on pacing the room himself; thoughtful and silent, as if
+some doubt as to his course were still lingering in his mind.
+
+At last he threw himself into a chair.
+
+"This is neither the time nor place to talk of your devotion to me,
+Brettison.  Heaven reward you for it!  You have brought me back to a
+new, even if hopeless, life.  Let us now talk of the future."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Brettison eagerly, for he had grown uneasy at his
+friend's words.
+
+"There must never be the slightest risk of Myra and that man meeting
+again.  Here in England it would always be possible."
+
+"No, no; don't say you will send the poor wretch back to the prison."
+
+"No; as I have said before, that is out of the question now, but he must
+leave England."
+
+"Yes; but how?"
+
+"You must help me again, Brettison."
+
+"Of course, boy; but how?"
+
+"You are a wanderer; ready to go anywhere to study plant life?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then you must select some place to begin with and settle there for a
+time--say in Brittany, inland or on the coast.  Let that man be with
+you, and his nurse, and always under your eye."
+
+"Willingly."
+
+"When tired of one place go to another; but he must not be left."
+
+"I'll do it," said Brettison eagerly.
+
+"I knew you would.  But listen; I shall share your task.  I'll give up
+everything to guard against that horror.  Will you help me?"
+
+"My boy, I tell you, yes; and gladly, too, now that this black shadow is
+being swept from your life."
+
+"Thank you, Brettison.  We will start to-morrow, if possible; if not, as
+soon as it is."
+
+"Good.  He will be no trouble, and it will be like old times again,
+Malcolm.  Bless you, my boy!  It gives me life to see you growing firm
+and like yourself again.  Who's that?"
+
+He started as he stood up and clasped Stratton's hand, for there was a
+sharp double knock at the outer door.
+
+"Guest," said Stratton.  "There, our plans are made.  They are for
+ourselves alone I trust Guest, but not yet with this."
+
+He threw open the inner door, and unfastened the outer, which was drawn
+from his hand, and the man regarding whom they had been planning,
+looking intent and strange, strode into the room.
+
+"James Barron!"
+
+"Yes; I have business with you, sir," he said, in quite his old tone.
+"Mr Malcolm Stratton, I believe?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.
+
+FLASHING BACK TO LIFE.
+
+Brettison leaped from his chair, and Stratton literally staggered back
+against a glass case so violently that a figure upon it toppled over and
+fell with a crash, as if emblematic of another downfall of all hope.
+
+For it seemed incredible.  Little more than an hour before they had left
+this man apparently a helpless imbecile, unable to concentrate his
+mental faculties save upon one point, and only at certain times upon
+that, at all others hopelessly blank.  While now the vacuity had
+apparently departed, his face looked eager and animated, and the
+helpless log had turned into a dangerous enemy, whose fresh coming upon
+the scene completely upset all calculations, and the question staring
+them in the face was how to act next.
+
+For it was quite plain; so long as the man had gone on in his quiet,
+regular track, with his nurse in attendance, and his invalid-chair
+waiting to take him a short distance every morning, his mind had
+remained blank; but though he had made no sign--though he had apparently
+not been in any way impressed by Stratton's company--beneath the calm,
+dreamy surface the old man had been evoked, the thoughts lying dormant
+had suddenly been awakened; and with the last scene of which he was
+conscious, before the shot had prostrated body and mind at one blow,
+once more vividly before his mind, he had risen from his seat during his
+nurse's absence, and made straight for the chambers, bent upon finishing
+the task upon which he had set his mind.
+
+As he mounted the stairs, nearly everything was as clear as on the day
+when he had presented himself.  Only one matter was confused, and,
+strangely enough, that was the point upon which, during his imbecile
+condition, he had been able to dwell--to wit, his wound.  One set of
+ideas swept away the other, and he could only go back to the moment when
+he had presented that revolver at Stratton.
+
+And now, as he entered the room and spoke, it was to him the same day
+and the continuation of his interview with Stratton.  It puzzled him a
+little that he should have had to come through the streets to continue
+that scene, but not much, for his mind had been gradually opening out
+from the time he left Queen Charlotte Road, and it was only when he
+reached Stratton's door that he had gained its full expansion.  He was a
+little surprised, too, at seeing Brettison there.  The latter had come
+in suddenly like one in a dream, but he did not let it trouble him.  If
+Stratton was willing to let a third person share the secret, that was
+his lookout.  Brettison was evidently not connected with the police, and
+he felt that the power he held made him more than a match for both.
+
+He smiled as he saw the effect his arrival had produced on the occupants
+of the chambers, and looked sharply from one to the other before
+turning, and turning the bolt of the inner door into its socket.  Then
+his hand went suspiciously to his pocket and then to his breast.  Not
+finding what he sought, he looked at the table and the floor in search
+of it.
+
+He shook his head then as if to clear his mind, and turned to Brettison.
+
+"Who are you?" he said sharply.  "Friend of his--a friend of the lady?
+Why have you come?  Don't matter.  If he doesn't mind, it's nothing to
+me.  Get the old man and the aunt, and my wife too, if you like, for she
+is my wife, mind.  You can't get out of that--my wife, Mrs James
+Barron.  Do you hear, Stratton?--Mrs James Barron."
+
+Stratton uttered a peculiar sound, between a groan and a cry of rage,
+and he took a step toward the man, who drew himself up threateningly.
+
+"No nonsense," he said, with a fierce snarl.
+
+"No games, or you'll repent it.  I'm playing high, and I'll stand no
+humbug.  Look here, old man," he continued, turning to Brettison, "you
+sit down there, whoever you are.  I don't want to hurt you.  I warn you,
+for I may turn rusty.  What you've got to do is to take a sensible view
+of the case, and advise him to do the same.  Sit down."
+
+He spoke as fiercely as if it were to an obstinate dog, and Brettison
+sank back in an easy-chair, looking stunned.
+
+"That's right.  Now you, Stratton, you'd better squat down, too.  I've
+come on particular business.  I expected you to turn nasty, and I'm
+quite prepared."
+
+He tapped his breast where he had felt for the revolver, and a look of
+low cunning crossed his heavy face.
+
+Stratton also sank into a chair--not so much in obedience to the man's
+words as to gain time and settle upon some plan of action.
+
+"Come, that's sensible," said the man, smiling.  "I see we shall come to
+good terms suitable to all parties.  I hate quarrelling, specially when
+all the good cards are in my hand.  It's like being forced to take a
+cowardly advantage of the other side."
+
+Brettison turned a hopeless look upon Stratton, and the man saw it and
+said sharply:
+
+"Never mind him.  I'll tell you, as you were not here.  I propose a
+handsome sum down.  Hallo! he has pocketed those notes that were on the
+table.  But it doesn't matter, they're easily brought out.  A handsome
+sum down, and a regular quarterly payment.  He has only to agree to
+that, and James Barron goes about in the dark and he never sees him.
+It'll be just as if James Barron was shot and drowned, as the papers
+said, in an attempt to escape off The Foreland one dark night about a
+year ago.  Ugh! it was rough work," he added, with a shudder, "and I
+deserve a little extra for leaving the lady alone for so long.  Now,
+then, isn't that a fair offer?"
+
+Brettison's lips moved as he sat there perfectly prostrated, wishing
+that in his zeal he had not interfered; for had he not, the man before
+them would have been dead and powerless to work all this evil--unless
+discovery had made him a more deadly enemy still.
+
+"I say, isn't that a fair offer?" he repeated.  "Silence gives consent.
+There we are, then.  Come, Stratton.  They must be ready to start for
+the church by this time, so look alive and let's get the business done.
+Just a few strokes of the pen, the handing over of some filthy lucre in
+the shape of notes--Bank of England, mind," he said with a peculiar
+laugh, "none of your Russian roubles.  By jingo, what notes those were,
+though.  They didn't find 'em out for years.  Well?"
+
+He looked from one to the other as they sat watching him in helpless
+dismay.
+
+"Come; don't fool.  You are keeping the lady waiting, and old Jerrold is
+a regular Tartar, I can tell you.  He will not stand any nonsense.  I
+know him of old.  Come, what is it to be?"
+
+He looked fixedly at Stratton, as if urging him to speak, but no words
+came.
+
+"I say, what is it to be?" cried the man fiercely.  "No shilly-shally!
+Don't put me out, or I shall be more nasty than you like.  There, there,
+don't let's quarrel, gentlemen," he cried, changing his tone.  "We're
+all men of the world, and we've got to deal with an ugly difficulty.
+Let's settle it sensibly.  I'm sorry for you, Stratton.  It's
+disappointing for you to have a dead man come to life and claim his wife
+just as you are going to take the pretty widow to the church; but these
+accidents will occur, and when they do let's repair damages the best way
+we can.  Well; why don't you speak; don't let me do all the talking."
+
+Stratton drew a deep breath.
+
+"Oh, it's of no use to sigh over it, sir, not a bit.  Nothing to sigh
+for.  Come, hang it all, Myra Barron's worth a few hundreds down, and a
+little income for her lawful lord.  I don't want her, but I can't afford
+to sell her too cheaply--hang the thing!"
+
+He gave his head an uneasy jerk, and his hand played about his neck and
+the back of his right ear for a few moments, as if something troubled
+him.  But it passed off directly, and he looked from one to the other
+again as he took a chair, turned it, and supported himself by propping
+himself with the back.
+
+"Now then: the parson's waiting, and the carriages and the people.
+Drink my health after its all over, and think to yourself I've behaved
+like a trump.  Write out a cheque, and send the old man here to cash it,
+only look here, old fellow, no games, no tricks.  You'll play fair--or I
+shall make it pretty unpleasant for all concerned, I can tell you.  All
+right, you'll be square.  You can't afford to play tricks.  Now, then,
+we are agreed, eh?  That's right.  Better than having a furious row
+about nothing.  What do you say?"
+
+"I was about to speak to my friend, sir," said Stratton quietly.  Then
+turning to Brettison--"Now what do you think; we must completely alter
+our plans."
+
+"Yes," said Brettison, with a sigh.
+
+"Make your plans, gentlemen, when you've settled with me," said the man
+sternly, and he jerked one hand up to his neck again, and withdrew it
+with a gesture of annoyance.  "Come, Stratton, it's only a few lines
+written with a pen, and you win all you want.  Where do you keep your
+cheque-book?  In your table-drawer."
+
+"There is only one way out of the difficulty, Brettison," said Stratton
+with a sigh.
+
+"Only one," said the old man sadly.
+
+"Bravo, that's common-sense," cried the man.  "Sound wisdom.  I told you
+so.  Out with that cheque-book at once."
+
+"I'm afraid, sir," said Stratton sternly, "that we are at cross
+purposes."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That no money would ever buy your silence, even if I were disposed to
+play the part of scoundrel.  You will get no hush money from me."
+
+"What?"
+
+"There is only one way out of this difficulty."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" said the man sarcastically; "and that is--"
+
+"To hand you over to the police."
+
+"What?"
+
+"You heard my words, sir!  I need not repeat them.  The prison is the
+only place for such as you, where the power of doing mischief is beyond
+you.  Brettison, go down and fetch a policeman--two--at once."
+
+"Let him stir, and I'll send a bullet through his skull," cried the man
+fiercely, as his hand was thrust behind him beneath his coat.
+
+"Go at once, Brettison, I'll take care he does not harm you."
+
+"Don't listen to him, you, sir," cried the scoundrel.  "I warn you; you
+stir from that chair and you're a dead man!"
+
+"My dear Stratton," said Brettison, rising from his sea.
+
+"Go at once!  Never mind his threats," said Stratton fiercely.
+
+"All right, I've warned you," said the man, drawing back his lips from
+his teeth like some wild animal about to bite, and, stepping quickly to
+the door, he stood near it with his hand behind him still, as if about
+to draw a revolver from his hip pocket.
+
+Brettison did not stir.
+
+"He has a pistol there," he whispered.
+
+"Of course.  Suppose I was coming on a job like this, to make my
+gentleman there disgorge, and not have a mate to back me?  Now, then,
+both of you; it's of no use to get into a passion.  You threaten police.
+I checkmate you with the little tool I have here--my reserve force.
+There, you had better take it quietly, Stratton.  What are a few
+hundreds to you?  I give up the girl and her fortune; what more do you
+want?  As for myself, I only wish for enough to live comfortably and in
+peace without troubling anybody.  There, let's talk again like men of
+the world.  You put my back up when you begin talking all that nonsense
+about the police.  Be sensible, Mr Stratton.  I've had one dose of over
+yonder that was not pleasant.  I don't want to get on trial for shooting
+you--if caught."
+
+He said the last words with a forced laugh, and took a step or two
+forward in a jaunty fashion, in wonderful contrast with his manner an
+hour or so before.
+
+"Now, then, Mr Stratton, we'll forget all that, please.  Sit down, as I
+said before, and write that cheque."
+
+Stratton stood motionless in the middle of the room, with his eyes fixed
+upon his visitor; and his strength of mind and determination seemed to
+grow rapidly.  The old nervous horror was gone, and, quite equal to his
+task, he never for a moment removed his eyes from his adversary.
+
+"Come, we're wasting time, Mr Stratton.  You're wanted yonder.  No more
+shilly-shallying, please; that cheque."
+
+"Fetch the police, Brettison," said Stratton sternly; and, in obedience
+to the order, Brettison took a step forward, while the savage aspect
+came again into the ex-convict's countenance as he took a step back and
+covered the door.
+
+"No, you don't," he said, making a gesture as if tugging a pistol from
+his pocket.  "I warn you both, I'm a desperate man.  I've been skulking
+about for over a twelvemonth now, waiting for my chance, and it's come.
+I'll have that money before I go.  Write out that cheque, and get it
+cashed.  Send him, I say again, to get the money; and as for you," he
+snarled, as he turned his eyes on Brettison, "you play any games, you so
+much as look at a policeman while you are out, and I warn you he'll
+suffer for it before you can break in here with any of your cursed
+hounds."
+
+"It's of no use," said Brettison hoarsely.  "Let him say how much he
+wants, and I'll write a cheque and get the money."
+
+"Hah!  That's talking sense," said the man exultantly, but never for a
+moment relaxing his watchfulness--keeping his eyes upon Stratton, but
+noting as well Brettison's actions as he took out his pocketbook and
+drew a blank cheque from one of the folds.
+
+"How much must I draw this for, Mr Cousin?" he said hurriedly.
+
+"Cousin?  Who's Mr Cousin?  Draw it to James Barron, Esquire.  No.
+What for?  Draw it to yourself.  Five hundred pounds, now."
+
+Brettison shrugged his shoulders, and moved toward the table.
+
+"Stop!" cried Stratton firmly.  "What are you going to do?"
+
+"Give him the money," said Brettison.  "You see; we must."
+
+"Fetch the police," repeated Stratton.  "I cannot leave you and go
+myself."
+
+"But the man is armed," said Brettison.  "My dear boy, he is desperate."
+
+"I tell you, I will protect you, man.  Now, come on."
+
+He took a step forward, and the ex-convict gave a fierce tug to draw his
+weapon, but stopped, for Brettison seized his friend, and held him back.
+
+"The pistol!  Mind!" he cried.
+
+"He has no pistol," roared Stratton, dragging himself free; and, seizing
+the man by the collar with both hands, he flung him aside.  "Now, then,
+the police at once."
+
+Brettison rushed to the door; but stopped short to gaze in wonder at the
+group before him.
+
+For as if Stratton's touch had discharged all power from the man he had
+seized, the fierce look faded from his face, which grew heavy, vacuous,
+and dull; his legs trembled beneath him, and he lurched forward, and was
+only saved from falling by a rapid movement on Stratton's part as he
+swung him into an easy-chair, where his enemy sank back with his head
+lying over on one shoulder, and his leaden eyes staring heavily at the
+floor.
+
+The strength which had animated him with the flush of memory which had
+come back, had passed away, and he was once more the feeble imbecile,
+slowly raising his hand to his neck, where his fingers wandered about
+the scar of his wound; while at that moment there was faintly heard on
+the staircase the cheery humming-over of a scrap from an opera, followed
+by voices and steps on the stone landing, which halted at the door.
+
+Then came a long, rolling knock, followed by a merry laugh, and
+Stratton, with a quick movement, raised his hand and whispered:
+
+"Hush!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.
+
+TO SAVE HER.
+
+The knock was repeated as Brettison and Stratton stood gazing at each
+other, and then at the miserable imbecile before them in the chair.
+
+At that moment a familiar voice, muffled by the doors, but still silvery
+and clear, said:
+
+"No use; not at home."
+
+"One more try!" came plainly to their ears, followed by a cleverly
+executed _roulade_ with the little brass knocker.
+
+Then there was a short pause, and the rattle of the little copper-plate
+of the letter-box as if something had been dropped in; the babble of
+merry voices, and descending steps.
+
+Stratton waited till the last sound had died out, when he opened the
+inner door, and took out two cards.
+
+"Edie and Guest," he said, as he came back and reclosed the door.
+
+Just then a line or two in pencil caught his eye, and he read:
+
+  "_Come on to my rooms as soon as you can.  News_.
+
+  "_P.G_."
+
+"Impossible?" muttered Stratton, tossing the cards on to the table.
+"Now, Brettison, we must act at once."
+
+"Yes.  Yes; of course.  But, my dear lad, what a pity you found me, and
+I took you there."
+
+"Too late to talk of that, man," said Stratton, who was full of energy
+now as he stood frowning.  "But have you ever had any scene like this
+before?  I mean, has he returned to his former self?"
+
+"No.  He has always been as you saw him this morning.  His memory was a
+blank as to the past.  Your coming and the sound of your voice must have
+revived it all."
+
+"But he made not the faintest sign of recognition."
+
+"No; but we cannot understand the workings of the brain.  It was,
+perhaps, the expiring effort of his reason, for look at him now."
+
+"Expiring!" cried Stratton.  "Yes; but how many more flashes of reason
+may spring up before the light goes right out?"
+
+Brettison gazed at the man in a perplexed way, and bent over and touched
+him, but there was no sign.
+
+"This settles it," said Stratton at last.  "We must act at once."
+
+"Yes.  What shall we do?"
+
+"You see, he may have a hundred returns of his memory, and come here
+again and again threatening and making demands; and if he has reason
+enough at these times to come here, what is to prevent his going up to
+the admiral's and making a terrible scene there?"
+
+Brettison nodded.
+
+"Yes," he said hopelessly.  "What, indeed!  Malcolm, my dear lad.  I
+thought by going into hiding with him, and devoting myself to his care,
+I was doing you a great service; but I'm getting old and weak, I
+suppose.  I will go by all you say now.  I haven't an opinion of my
+own."
+
+"You did everything you could for me," said Stratton warmly; "and you
+must go on helping me still."
+
+"I will do anything if you will only trust me."
+
+"Trust you," cried Stratton reproachfully.  "There, we must act at
+once."
+
+"What do you propose doing?"
+
+"Making sure that the man has no further opportunity of doing harm to
+anyone."
+
+"You will not hand the poor wretch over to the police?"
+
+"No," said Stratton sternly.  "I cannot; he is her husband.  That blow
+must not come from me.  Either you or I must always be with him abroad."
+
+"Yes, it would be best.  Beyond reach of doing harm.  Where shall I take
+him?"
+
+"_We_ will take him across to France first," said Stratton, emphasising
+the first word.  "Let's get him to Saint Malo, and then along the coast
+to some secluded fishing village, till we can think out a better plan."
+
+"Good; and when will you start?"
+
+"At once--that is, to-night.  You could be ready?"
+
+"A man who can draw a little money is always ready," replied Brettison,
+smiling.  "Then I'll take him back with me in a cab, pack up some
+things, and you will join us in time to catch the train which meets the
+Southampton boat this evening."
+
+"No.  Leave him with me," said Stratton firmly.  "Go and get your
+luggage ready, and call for me with a cab at nine; that will be plenty
+of time for us to catch the train."
+
+"But--er--leave you--with him?" said Brettison hesitatingly.
+
+Stratton laughed bitterly.
+
+"Don't be afraid, old fellow," he said.  "I shall not try to murder him
+this time."
+
+"My dear Malcolm!" cried the old man reproachfully.
+
+"Well," said Stratton, smiling sadly; "if you did not exactly think
+that, you had some hazy notions of its being unsafe to leave me with my
+incubus."
+
+"I--that is--" faltered Brettison weakly.
+
+"There, say no more.  He's safe with me.  I shall not try to buy her
+freedom at such a cost.  You know that."
+
+"At nine o'clock, then," said Brettison hastily.  "You are sure you will
+not mind being left with him?"
+
+"Mind?" said Stratton with a smile.  "Yes, I mind it, but it is our
+duty, old fellow; and we are going to do that duty to the end."
+
+He wrung his old friend's hand as he saw him off, and then, with a
+complete change coming over his countenance, he carefully locked the
+door, placed the inner key in his pocket, and walked steadily across to
+where his unwelcome visitor lay back in his seat, with his hand still
+playing furtively about the red scar behind his ear.  His eyes stared in
+a leaden way at the rich carpet; and, as Stratton followed them he
+shuddered, and the whole scene of that terrible night came back, for the
+eyes were fixed upon a stain only partly obliterated, and it was there
+where his head had lain after he received the shot.
+
+A peculiar sense of shrinking ran through Stratton as he saw himself
+again passing through the struggle and dragging the man into the
+bath-closet, while once more he had to fight with the feelings of dread
+of detection, and recalled how he had argued with himself, upon the
+necessity for hiding away the wretch whose existence had been as a
+blight on Myra's young life, and who, dead, was the great bar to their
+future happiness.
+
+"And," he muttered aloud with a bitter sigh, "living--as great a barrier
+still."
+
+"If he would but die," something seemed to say; "and free her."
+
+But he shook his head directly.
+
+"A vain hope," he said--"a vain hope."
+
+He shuddered and clenched his hands, closing his eyes directly after,
+for a maddening, horrible feeling of temptation had come over him.  They
+were alone in that solitary room--he with this wretch whose existence in
+his sane moments was a curse; and who now, as he lay back there feeble,
+vacuous, existing only in body, not in mind, was a mere blot upon the
+earth, less worthy of the space he occupied than the vilest animal
+classed as vermin, and which man crushed out of his way without
+compunction, without a second thought.  What sin would it be to quench
+the flickering life before him?  He must give up all hope of ever
+clasping Myra to his heart, as he had given it up before, and suffer as
+he had suffered then; but she would be free.  There would never then be
+any possibility of her coming face to face with this horror.  And it
+would be so easy!  One firm grasp of his nervous fingers, and the feeble
+beating of the miserable wretch's arteries would cease.
+
+And after?
+
+Brettison would return and find that his preparations had been vain--
+that the man was lying back there in his chair--dead from a fit--the
+precarious life had come to an end, as might have been foretold after
+such a seizure--such a stroke.  And it would be so easy--so easy.
+
+Stratton opened his eyes and stood gazing down at the vacant face with
+the lids half-closed now, and remained there as if fascinated, unable to
+drag himself away till, with one vigorous wrench, he turned and
+literally rushed into his chamber to prepare for the journey.
+
+He was absent about half an hour before he returned to make a few more
+preparations there.
+
+He went about the room opening cabinet and case to find money and other
+necessaries for his journey, busying himself, and taking care not to let
+his eyes rest for a moment on the figure sitting back in the chair and
+uneasily moving from time to time.
+
+"He is safe with me--safe with me," Stratton muttered as he went to and
+from his bedroom.  "What thoughts will force themselves into a man's
+head at times!"
+
+The hours had glided by till it had grown quite dark, and still he was
+busy for the sake of occupying himself.  But at last he could see to do
+no more, and he went softly to a drawer to get out matches and light his
+lamp.
+
+The drawer creaked as he pulled it out, and deadened a sound behind him
+as of one softly rising from a chair, and a piece of stone--a large
+fossil--grated as it was taken from the mantelpiece; but, rapt in
+thought, Stratton did not hear it as he opened the box, took out and
+struck a match, which flashed, and threw a bluish, ghastly light upon a
+hideous face, with beside it an arm raised to strike.
+
+The next minute there was a crash and a heavy fall.
+
+It was about half an hour later that Brettison ascended the staircase,
+and as he reached the landing there was a puffing and panting behind
+him.
+
+"It is you, then, Mr Brettison," cried Mrs Brade joyfully; "I thought
+it was you as you passed the lodge, and I am glad, sir.  We began to
+think you must be dead and gone.  Now do let me come and tidy up your
+room, sir, and make you a cup of tea."
+
+"No, no," said Brettison.  "I am going in here.  Mr Stratton and I are
+leaving town."
+
+"Mr Stratton has gone, sir.  Leastwise not at home."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Mr Guest was here a quarter of an hour ago, and said he'd been here
+once before.  He couldn't make no one hear."
+
+"Something has happened then," said Brettison to himself, and a thrill
+of horror ran through his frame.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FORTY NINE.
+
+A PLACE OF REST.
+
+"Well, if ever two strange gentlemen did live in inns it's Mr Stratton
+and Mr Brettison," said Mrs Brade as she reluctantly went back to her
+lodge.  "Nice state their rooms must be in; and him, once so civil and
+polite, as awkward and gruff as you please."
+
+She had some cause for complaint, Brettison having dismissed her with a
+request not to talk quite so much.
+
+In spite of the woman's declaration of Stratton's absence, the old man
+felt that he must be there; and after knocking twice, each time with his
+heart sinking more and more with dread, he applied his lips to the
+letter-box after forcing open the spring flap.
+
+"Stratton, if you are there, for Heaven's sake open at once!" he
+whispered loudly.
+
+There was a rustling sound directly, the bolt was shot back, and
+Stratton admitted him, afterward taking a letter from the box, glancing
+at it, and thrusting it into his pocket.
+
+"That woman said you had gone out," said Brettison eagerly.  "I was
+alarmed.  I thought--how is he?"
+
+Stratton pointed to the chair where the man lay as if asleep.
+
+"Why, how haggard you look," said Brettison excitedly.  "Has there been
+anything the matter?"
+
+"Nothing much; only I have had a struggle with a madman who tried to
+murder me."
+
+"My dear boy!"
+
+"It is a fact," said Stratton.  "I found him with that piece of rock in
+his hand, and about to strike me down."
+
+He pointed to the massive stone lying on the table, and then said,
+smiling:
+
+"I was just in time to save myself."
+
+"Good Heavens!  Was he dangerous for long?"
+
+"For long enough.  We had a short struggle, and he went down with a
+crash.  One moment he was tremendously strong; the next helpless as a
+child, and he has been like that ever since.  Our plans must be
+altered."
+
+"No, not now," said Brettison decisively.  "The man has been
+over-excited to-day.  Your presence seems to have roused up feelings
+that have been asleep.  I ought not to have left you alone with him.
+Come, it is getting late.  We have very few minutes to spare."
+
+"Then you mean to go?"
+
+"Yes, I mean to go.  You shall see us to the station.  I have no fear of
+him; he will be calm enough with me."
+
+"Very well," said Stratton, "anything to get him away from here.  If he
+keeps on turning violent he must be placed under restraint."  Stratton
+opened the door, placed his travelling bag outside, and came back.
+
+"What does that mean?" said Brettison, pointing to the bag.
+
+"Mine.  You do not suppose I shall let you go alone."
+
+"You cannot go now.  I have managed him so long, and I can manage him
+still."
+
+"We shall miss the train," said Stratton quietly; and taking the man's
+arm he drew it quietly through his, and after pausing to secure the
+door, walked with him down to the cab, Brettison following with the
+little valise.
+
+They reached the station within five minutes of the time, and soon after
+were rattling down to Southampton, Stratton throwing himself back in a
+corner to draw a deep breath of relief as they left the busy town
+behind, and taking out his letter, but only to glance at the
+handwriting, and thrust it back.
+
+Their prisoner sank back to sleep heavily, and he was still in a drowsy
+state as they went on board, lying down quietly enough in his berth,
+where they left him and went on deck as soon as they were well out of
+the dock.
+
+"Safe!" said Stratton exultingly.  "Now, Brettison, that man must never
+see England again."
+
+They reached Jersey in due time, and next morning were in Saint Malo,
+where they stayed two days, making inquiries which resulted in their
+taking boat and being landed twenty miles along the coast at a
+picturesque, old-world fishing village--Saint Garven's--where, lodgings
+being found, they both drew breath more freely, feeling at ease now--
+their companion having settled down into a calm, apathetic state,
+apparently oblivious of all that went on around him.
+
+It was hard to believe that the dull, vacant-looking man was the same
+being as the one with whom Stratton had had his late terrible encounter;
+for in spite of the light, indifferent way in which he had treated it to
+his friend, none knew better than he that he had been within an inch of
+losing his life.  It was hard even to Stratton, and as the days glided
+by in the peaceful calm of the tiny bay, with its groups of fishermen
+and women on the soft white sands, or wading into the clear blue water
+to reach their boats, the surroundings made the place a pleasant oasis
+in the desert of his life.  The rest was sweet and languorous, and he
+passed his time now strolling out on the dry, warm sands, thinking, now
+high up on the grassy top of the cliff, where he could look down on
+people enjoying their seaside life.
+
+At times he would go out with some of the fishermen, who readily
+welcomed the English stranger, and talked to him in a formal, grave way,
+and in French that he found it hard to follow.
+
+Meanwhile Brettison had hunted out a brawny pleasant-faced fisherman's
+wife, who had been pointed out to him as an able nurse, and placed their
+charge in her care--the ex-convict obeying her lightest sign and giving
+little trouble, suffering himself to be led to some nook or other at the
+foot of the high cliffs, where he would sit down, watched by his
+attendant--the Breton woman--while Brettison busied himself on the
+cliffs collecting.
+
+There was no trouble; the man grew more apathetic day by day, and
+Brettison took care that his companion should not come in contact with
+him, for fear of reviving some memory of the past and causing a scene.
+
+"And he is so good and patient, m'sieu," the nurse would say, looking up
+from the knitting over which she was busy; "and he is growing well and
+strong, oh, so fast.  It is our beautiful bay, monsieur.  Yes, everyone
+grows strong and well here."
+
+She nodded as if there was no contradicting this, and Brettison went in
+search of Stratton with a bunch of plants in his hand, and a curiously
+puzzled look in his eyes.
+
+"Suppose he does get well and strong," he thought to himself.  "I ought
+to be glad, but am not."
+
+He found Stratton sitting back, with his shoulders against the cliff,
+dreaming of the past, and then of the future, more at rest than he had
+been for months, and as Brettison drew near he brightened a little, and
+smiled.  For the nurse's words applied to his friend as well, and he was
+certainly growing stronger and better.  A healthy brown was coming into
+his face, and in spite of the dreamy reverie into which he plunged, a
+more even balance was coming to his mind.
+
+"One must reckon one against the other," Brettison said to himself.
+
+As the days glided by, and they gained confidence from their charge's
+dull, dreamy condition, Brettison proposed, and Stratton readily agreed,
+to make little excursions with him inland, or along the coast to some of
+the quaint villages, or antique--so-called Druidical--remains; and after
+each trip they returned to find nurse and patient just as they had left
+them.  The confidence increased, and it became evident that Stratton had
+only to keep away for their charge to go on in his old vacant manner
+from day to day.  His habits were simple and full of self-indulgence, if
+there could be any enjoyment to a mind so blank.  He rose late, and went
+to bed soon after sundown, and the evenings were looked forward to by
+Stratton and Brettison for their quiet dinner at the little inn where
+Stratton stayed.
+
+Here, as they sat over their wine and had cigars, watching the evening
+skies and the glorious star-gemmed sea, a feeling of restfulness came
+over them, and they leaned back with the feeling of convalescents whose
+wounds were healing fast after they had been very nearly to the gates of
+death.
+
+It was a marvel to Stratton as he recalled the past, and, as he sat
+gazing from the open window or strolled out upon the dusky sands, he
+wondered that he could feel so well.  In fact a sensation of annoyance
+attacked him, for he felt guilty and faithless, a traitor to the past,
+and strove to resume his old cloak of sadness, but it would not come.
+
+"Malcolm, my lad," said Brettison one evening as he leaned forward and
+laid his hand upon the young man's arm, "we are going to have rest and
+peace again.  Thank Heaven, you are growing like your old self."
+
+"Rest and peace with that man yonder," said Stratton bitterly.
+
+"Hah!  That will not do.  Now you've gone back to the old style.  Let
+that be, and wait for the future to unroll itself.  The man does not
+trouble us, and seems hardly likely to, and we have the satisfaction of
+knowing that we are working for someone else's peace of mind.  You must
+not destroy what it is that has given you the rest you enjoy."
+
+Stratton was silent for a few moments, and sat gazing out to sea, where
+the lanterns of the passing boat and yacht slowly rose and fell on the
+gently heaving sea.
+
+"And who could help feeling restful in such a place as this?  Even I,
+old and worn-out as I am, enjoy the calm, languorous, peaceful sensation
+which steals over me.  Very disloyal, my dear boy--un-English to a
+degree--but there is something in these places that one cannot get at
+home."
+
+"Yes, I own to it," said Stratton after a pause; "one feels safe ashore
+after the perils of a mental wreck; but there are moments, old fellow,
+when I shrink and shiver, for it is as if a wave were noiselessly
+approaching to curl over and sweep one back into the dark waters."
+
+"Stuff! that's all past," said Brettison, lighting a fresh cigar.  "Here
+we are in a lovely place, and with only one care--which we depute to a
+nurse.  Let's eat and drink our fill of the peace that has come to us."
+
+"But it cannot go on, Brettison," said Stratton solemnly.  "It must have
+an end."
+
+"Yes; an end comes to all things, boy.  I shall die before long, but why
+should I sit and brood upon that?  Let's thankfully accept the good with
+the ill--no, not the ill," he said solemnly: "death is not an evil.  It
+is only made so by man."
+
+"But we cannot go on staying here," said Stratton with energy.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Oh, there are a dozen reasons.  My work, for one."
+
+"Nonsense!  Sink your pride and grow strong and well.  I have plenty for
+both of us, my boy."
+
+"And do you think I shall settle down to such a life as that, Brettison?
+No; you know me better."
+
+The old man was silent for a few minutes.
+
+"Yes," he said at last; "I expected you to speak like that, but it is
+only absurd pride."
+
+"I have not much left me in life," said Stratton quietly as he rose from
+the seat he had occupied.  "Let me enjoy that."
+
+Brettison made no reply.  He was pained and yet pleased as he sat back
+and saw through the smoke of his cigar the dim figure of his companion
+pass and go down toward the sea, gradually growing more indistinct, till
+the darkness swallowed him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTY.
+
+A NIGHT ALARM.
+
+There was a feeling in the air along that dark shore which accorded well
+with Stratton's sensations.  The solemn melancholy of the place was
+calming; and as he watched the sheet of spangled gold before him softly
+heaving and appearing to send the star reflections sweeping at last in a
+golden cream upon the sands, life seemed, after all, worth living, and
+his cares and sufferings petty and contemptible.
+
+He wandered on close by the sea, where it broke gently in phosphorescent
+spray, till he was abreast of the cottage under the cliff where
+Brettison lodged with their charge.  There was a feeble light burning,
+and it shed out its glow through the open door, while lamps glimmered
+from higher up the cliff, where three or four miniature chateaux, the
+property of Parisians--let to visitors to the lovely little fishing
+village--were snugly ensconced in the sheltering rocks.
+
+There were voices just above the cottage, and a woman's speaking
+volubly, and he fancied he recognised that of the nurse, but felt that
+she would hardly have left her patient, though there was no reason why
+she should not, for Barron would have been in bed an hour or two, and it
+was absurd to expect her to be always on the watch.
+
+Stratton felt a strong desire, almost irresistible, as he gazed at the
+light from the cottage door, to go up, enter, and gaze at the man who
+had come between him and happiness.  He took a few steps forward under
+the influence upon rum, but only to stop and think, as the voluble voice
+above still went on in its peculiar French.
+
+"It would not be safe," he thought, with a shudder.  His presence had
+influenced the man imperceptibly when waking, might it not also as he
+slept?
+
+Stratton drew back, and continued his walk along the shore, enjoying the
+coolness of the fiery looking water which washed over and about his
+feet, full, as it were, of phosphorescent creatures, while here and
+there to his right, where the sea lay calm amid the rocks, the water was
+covered with what resembled a golden, luminous oil, which flashed softly
+at times with a bluish tint.
+
+"Brettison is right," he said to himself.  "Life is grand, and it is our
+petty cares which spoil it.  Not petty, though, mine," he added, with a
+sigh.  "Ah! what it might be if I could but hope."
+
+He drew a long, deep breath, and then made an effort to forget the past
+in the glory of the present.  He bared his head to the soft, warm night
+air, and walked slowly on, gazing up into the depths of the vast arch
+above his head, where stars innumerable shone on and on till they
+resembled golden dust.  The grandeur of the scene impressed him, and,
+feeling his own littleness more and more, he resolved to cast his old
+despondency aside and make a fresh start from that moment, accepting all
+his worries as the share apportioned to him, and cease to nurse them to
+the exclusion of the good.
+
+He could not help a bitter smile crossing his lips the next minute as he
+stopped short; for there, dimly seen before him, were two figures gazing
+out to sea, and so occupied by their own thoughts that they had not
+noticed his approach.  They were talking in a low voice of the sea and
+the phosphorescence--nothing more; but the tone of their voices!
+
+The old, old story breathed in every modulation, and Stratton sighed and
+drew silently away among the rocks farther from the sea, unnoticed by
+the pair, who turned and began to retrace their steps toward the lights
+he had left behind.
+
+They were silent now; but just as they passed him--their figures looking
+like one shadow between him and the luminous sea--the man said softly:
+
+"I often feel as if it were a sin to be so happy when I think of them."
+
+"Yes."
+
+They passed on, while Stratton felt as if he had suddenly received a
+tremendous blow, and he staggered back a step or two with his hands to
+his brow.
+
+Guest and Edie there!  Had he gone mad?
+
+He remained for a few seconds, as if paralysed, before he could collect
+himself and follow the figures, which had now passed on and been
+swallowed up in the darkness.  A cold perspiration broke out upon his
+face, and he walked on to overtake them--hurriedly now; but by degrees,
+as he drew near enough to make out their silent, shadowy figures,
+seeming to glide over the soft sand, he grew a little more calm.
+
+For he felt that the fact of his dwelling so much upon the Jerrold
+family had made him ready to jump at the conclusion that this was Edie
+and her lover.  He could not distinguish face or figure in the gloom,
+and he had only had the man's voice to suggest the idea--the woman's was
+but a whisper.  They were English, of course; but what of that?  It was
+a foolish mistake; for it was utterly impossible that Guest and Edie
+could be alone there that night upon those sands.
+
+All the same, he followed to see where they went, shrinking from going
+closer, now that he felt less sure, in dread lest he should seem to be
+acting the part of spy upon two strangers; while if it were they it
+would be madness to speak.  There was only one thing to be done: warn
+Brettison, and get their charge away at once.
+
+There before him walked the pair so slowly and leisurely that he had to
+be careful not to overtake them.  They were nearing the cottage with the
+open door, but the loud voice he had heard in passing was silent now,
+and the stillness was oppressive--the beating of his own heart and the
+soft whispering "whish" of the feet on the loose sand being all that was
+audible to his ears.
+
+It now occurred to him that, by a little management, he would be able to
+convince himself that this was only a mad fancy; for the couple must
+pass the open door, and if he struck off a little to his left, so as to
+get nearer to the sea, he could hurry on unseen, and get opposite to the
+door, so that when they passed the light he would have them like
+silhouettes for a moment or two, quite long enough to make out their
+profiles.
+
+He set about carrying his plan into effect, and in a minute or so was
+abreast of the pair, but they were quite invisible now; and, feeling
+that he had gone too far, as soon as he was opposite to the lighted door
+he began to advance slowly, expecting moment by moment to see the two
+figures move into the light; but they did not come.
+
+They must pass the door, he felt, for he could recall no way up the
+cliff, the house perched up there being approached by a broad step-like
+path from the rough roadway leading up the ravine which came down to the
+shore with its stream, beside which, on either side, many of the
+cottages were built.
+
+Still they did not come, but Stratton waited patiently, for, lover-like,
+they might be hanging back for a few moments before approaching the
+light.
+
+At last a dark figure in front of the doorway was plainly enough seen,
+and Stratton leaned forward with eyes dilated, but only to utter a
+muttered interjection, for the figure he saw was undoubtedly Brettison,
+as he stood there apparently peering about in the darkness.
+
+Another moment or two, and still no sign of the figures he sought, and,
+wondering whether they could have passed through some miscalculation on
+his part, he stepped forward quickly to make sure, when he became
+visible to Brettison, who joined him at once.
+
+"There you are, then.  I was getting uneasy.  One of the fishermen saw
+you go along in this direction, and I was beginning to think that I must
+get some of them to come and help me search for you."
+
+"Why?" said Stratton harshly.
+
+"Because the coast is dangerous, and there is always the risk of anyone
+being surrounded by the advancing tide."
+
+"Tide is going down," said Stratton quietly.  "See anybody pass?" he
+continued as he debated whether he should take Brettison into his
+confidence, while all the time he kept a sharp look about him.
+
+"No, not a soul.  The most solitary place a man could select for a
+stay."
+
+"Is there a way up into the village beyond the cottage here?" said
+Stratton quietly.
+
+"Yes, but it is only a sort of flight of steps used by the people here.
+It would be farther round, too.  Better keep to the beach."
+
+As he spoke Brettison walked by his side, and tried to edge him away
+from the light, speaking in quite a whisper the while, as if afraid that
+their voices might reach the occupant of the cottage.
+
+And meanwhile Stratton was still debating within himself as to whether
+he should tell his companion of the startling adventure he had had.  But
+feeling more and more that the idea was only coloured by his
+imagination, and knowing in his heart that the old man would smile and
+point out the impossibility of such an encounter, he determined to be
+silent till the morning--if he could not learn anything about any
+visitors who might be staying there.
+
+Twice over as they walked he was on the point of speaking, but checked
+himself, and then the opportunity was gone, for Brettison held out his
+hand.
+
+"Good-night, my boy," he said; "you are tired.  There, go to the inn and
+have a good night's rest."
+
+"One moment, Brettison," said Stratton, arresting him.  "You do not
+think it possible that--"
+
+He stopped short: he could not say it.  The idea was absurd.
+
+"Well, think what possible?" said Brettison, smiling.
+
+"That he is likely to turn dangerous?"
+
+"I have no fear of him whatever," said the old man.  "There, don't
+fidget; good-night."
+
+Stratton went on to the inn, wishing that he had spoken to Brettison,
+after all; and he had hardly taken his seat before he sprang up again to
+go back to him.  Before starting he summoned the landlady to question
+her about visitors to the place, but only to find in a few minutes that
+her knowledge was confined to those who came to her hotel.  There were
+people who let their houses and took in lodgers, she knew--yes, but she
+had no patience with people who played at keeping an hotel.
+
+Stratton went out once more into the night with the intention of going
+straight to Brettison, telling him his suspicions, and asking his
+advice; but he shrank from the task; and on the impulse of the moment
+turned off to go and explore the village on the chance of happening upon
+something which would give him a clue.
+
+Five minutes devoted to his task was sufficient to satisfy him of the
+hopelessness of the task, and he returned to the inn agitated, weary,
+and trying to make some plan as to his proceedings as soon as it was
+light.
+
+"The post!" he said to himself.  He would be able to learn there; and
+half disposed to hire some vehicle and go across ten miles to the town,
+he entered the doorway, to start once more, this time with a thrill of
+certainty.
+
+For, as he advanced, he saw at the end of the passage a man in
+conversation with the landlady.  He was making inquiries about a boat
+for a sail next day.  The next minute he turned to leave, and came face
+to face with Guest.
+
+"Great Heavens!" cried the latter hoarsely; "you or your ghost.  O Mal,
+old man, if it is you how could you be so mad?"
+
+"Mad?  Mad?" stammered Stratton.  "What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, as to follow me?"
+
+"I--I did not know you were here."
+
+"Oh, hang that, man.  I told you in my letter."
+
+"What letter?"
+
+"The one I wrote and pushed into your letter-box after coming twice to
+tell you."
+
+"Letter?"
+
+"Why, of course.  You had it or you couldn't have come here."
+
+Stratton's hand went to his breast, and the next minute he drew out a
+soiled letter doubled up into three from the pressure of his pocketbook.
+
+"You wrote this letter to me to tell me you were coming here?" said
+Stratton in slow, strange accents.
+
+"Of course I did, and I tell you that you have done a mean, cruel thing
+in following me.  It can do no good; Sir Mark will be furious, and it is
+cruel to Myra."
+
+"Myra--Myra here!" gasped Stratton as he reeled against the wall.
+
+"Don't make a scene, man," said Guest in a low whisper.  "Of course; I
+told you she was coming, and how the old man insisted upon my coming
+too.  Why, you haven't opened the letter!"
+
+"No," said Stratton in a hoarse whisper.
+
+"Then how came you here?"
+
+"I--Heaven only knows!" said Stratton.  "It is beyond me."
+
+Guest looked at him curiously, as if he doubted his word.
+
+"We only came to-day.  Had to stop at place after place; Myra is so weak
+and ill."
+
+Stratton groaned.
+
+"Yes," said Guest; "that's better.  Now look here.  You and I will start
+off at daybreak for home.  It's hard on me, but it must be done."
+
+"Yes.  I saw you two--on the sands to-night.  I was not sure.  But tell
+me, where are they staying?"
+
+"At a little chateau-like place on the cliff; they got it through a
+woman they knew at Saint Malo a couple or three years ago.  She was
+servant there.  She is nurse now to an invalid gentleman staying at a
+cottage just below."
+
+Stratton stood gazing at his friend as if he had been turned to stone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.
+
+AND ALL IN VAIN.
+
+Guest stood looking at his friend for a few moments, half astonished,
+half annoyed.
+
+"Look here," he said at last, taking his arm and drawing it through his
+own, "we can't talk freely in this place.  Come out and have a cigar on
+the sands."
+
+Stratton made no reply, but walked out with him like a man who had been
+stunned, Guest taking the direction opposite to that in which the
+admiral's temporary home lay.  Then, stopping short by the ebbing sea,
+he drew out his cigar case and offered it; but it was waved aside.
+
+"Quite right," said Guest shortly; "we can't smoke now.  Look here, old
+fellow, I shouldn't be your friend if I did not speak out when you were
+in the wrong.  You must have known we were coming here, and you must see
+now that you have done, as I said, a cruel thing in coming; so give me
+your word as a man of honour that you will be ready to start with me in
+the morning first thing."
+
+"I tell you I did not know they were coming here," said Stratton in a
+deep, solemn tone; "I tell you I did not follow you, and I tell you that
+I cannot leave here with you in the morning."
+
+"Then how in the world did you come here?"
+
+"I don't know.  I suppose it was fate."
+
+"Bosh!  Who believes in fate?  Don't talk nonsense, man.  I am horribly
+sorry for you, as sorry as I can be for a man who is my friend, but who
+has never trusted or confided in me; but I stand now toward the admiral
+and Myra in such a position that I cannot keep aloof and see them
+insulted--well, I will not say that--see their feelings hurt by the
+reckless conduct of a man who is in the wrong."
+
+"In the wrong?" said Stratton involuntarily.
+
+"Yes, in the wrong.  You have wronged Myra."
+
+Stratton sighed.
+
+"And made her the wreck she is.  I don't say you could have made things
+better by speaking out--that is your secret--but I do say you could make
+matters better by keeping away."
+
+"Yes, I must go away as soon as possible."
+
+"You will, then?" cried Guest eagerly.  "In the morning?"
+
+"No; yes, if I can get away."
+
+"That's quibbling, man; an excuse to get near and see her," cried Guest
+angrily.
+
+"I swear it is not," cried Stratton.  "You will not believe me even
+after seeing your letter--which I had forgotten--was unopened."
+
+"I can't, Mal.  I wish to goodness I could."
+
+"Never mind.  I can say no more."
+
+"You mean that you will say no more," said Guest shortly.
+
+"I mean what I said," replied Stratton.
+
+"Very well.  You must take your road; I must take mine."
+
+Stratton was silent, and Guest turned short round on his heel, took a
+couple of steps away, but turned back.
+
+"Mal, old chap, you make me wild," he cried, holding out his hand.  "I
+know it's hard to bear--I know how you loved her, but sacrifice self for
+your honour's sake; be a man, and come away.  There, I'll walk with you
+to the post town.  You'll come?"
+
+"I cannot yet."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"It is better that I should not tell you," replied Stratton firmly.
+"Will you trust me?"
+
+"Will you confide in me, and tell me all your reasons for this strange
+conduct?"
+
+"Some day; not now."
+
+"You will not trust me, and you ask me to trust you.  It can't be done,
+man; you ask too much.  Once more, are we to be friends?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then you will go?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"At once?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Bah!" ejaculated Guest angrily, and he turned and strode away, while
+Stratton uttered a low sigh of misery, and yet of relief, for his
+friend's presence was irksome to him now that he wanted to act.
+
+He waited until Guest had been gone for some minutes, and then, taking a
+short cut, he strode along the sands, half in dread of encountering him
+again, but feeling that he must risk it, though certain that if they did
+meet Guest would reproach him with going toward the admiral's residence
+in order to obtain an interview with Myra.
+
+"He must think it--he must think it," muttered Stratton as he hurried
+on, now stumbling over a piece of rock, now slipping on some heap of
+weed left by the tide.  But he pressed forward, making straight for a
+light which shone out plainly half-way up the cliff, and which he
+instinctively judged to be at Sir Mark's abode, and a sense of despair
+clutched his heart as he felt how he was to be so near and yet dared not
+even look, much less speak.
+
+Suddenly he found that, though he was making straight for the cliff, he
+was wading through water; but he kept on, believing that he had entered
+a pool left by the tide, till the water rose from his ankles to his
+knees, and a rushing sound warned him that the tide had turned and was
+coming in fast.  Then he knew that he must have been walking along one
+of the spits of sand round which the flowing tide curved, and that if he
+retraced his steps it might be to find the other end covered, besides
+losing time.
+
+The darkness confused him, and he stopped, hesitating for a few moments;
+then, feeling that, whether the water deepened or receded, he must press
+on, he drew a deep breath and moved forward, the tide soon rising to his
+waist, and a wave nearly taking him off his legs.
+
+Was it to be his fate to be drowned now at such a critical time, he
+asked himself, there in sight of the light that might be shining from
+the room which the woman he sought to save from suffering now occupied?
+
+As this thought ran through his mind the waves rushed back with a hiss,
+the water falling to his knees, and, making a dash forward he found that
+he had passed the deepest part of the channel scooped by the tide in the
+sand.  Five minutes later he was on dry land, with the water streaming
+from him, and soon after the light which had been his guide disappeared.
+
+He rightly judged, though, that it must be from his having approached
+nearer to the cliff; and, pressing on in spite of the darkness, he at
+last reached it, but was unable to judge whether he was to right or left
+of the cottage that he sought.
+
+Once more he felt in despair, for he knew that time was gliding rapidly
+by, and that by some means they ought to leave before day.
+
+He was about to try off to the right when all at once he heard voices
+above his head to the left, and, listening intently, he made out the
+deep tones of the admiral, and an answer came in Guest's familiar voice.
+
+"Is he telling him that I am here?" thought Stratton.  No, for there was
+a pleasant little laugh--Edie's; and the constriction at the listener's
+heart was painful as he stood there thinking and wishing to hear the
+voice of the woman he loved better than his life.
+
+But the next who spoke was the admiral, and his words came distinctly to
+where, with every nerve strained, Stratton stood rooted to the sands.
+
+"Well, I'm sorry," said Sir Mark, "but we've plenty of time.  We'll have
+a sail another day, and a wander about the sands to-morrow.  I'll
+charter a boat at Saint Malo, and make her come round.  Now, my dears,
+in with you; it's getting late."
+
+"My dears!"  Then Myra was there all the time above where he stood; and
+in the silence and darkness which surrounded him Stratton sank upon his
+knees, and buried his face in his hands as he offered up a prayer for
+the safety of his lost love.
+
+He sprang to his feet.  The cottage must be close at hand, and in a few
+moments he was opposite the door of the long, low habitation on its
+little shelf of the cliff.
+
+All was darker than ever, for the flowing tide had brought with it a
+chilling mist, but there was no difficulty in finding Brettison's
+window, Barron's being next, at the end of the little house, the nurse
+and the owner and his wife occupying rooms on the other side of the
+door.
+
+Everyone had retired; and Stratton hesitated, feeling that he must defer
+his communication till the morning.
+
+No; impossible.  The wife not a hundred feet above where he stood--the
+convict husband close at hand, where he in his blindness had brought
+him.  At all hazards such a critical position must be ended, and he
+tapped gently at Brettison's casement.
+
+There was not a sound in answer, and he tapped again and again more
+loudly.  Then, with a rising sensation of anger that a man could sleep
+calmly in the midst of such peril, he was about to tap again when he was
+conscious of a faint sound within, and directly after a voice said
+softly:
+
+"Who is there?"
+
+"I--Stratton."
+
+The fastening grated, and the window was thrown open.
+
+"What is it?" whispered Brettison; "are you ill?"
+
+"Yes; sick at heart.  We must be off at once."
+
+"Hist! speak lower! there is only the closed door between my room and
+his," whispered Brettison, "and he is restless to-night.  I've heard him
+move and mutter.  In Heaven's name, what is it--the police on the
+scent?"
+
+"Would that they were waiting to take him off this moment, man,"
+whispered Stratton.  "Myra and her father are here."
+
+"You're mad."
+
+"Yes.  But they are in the house above."
+
+"They--the newcomers just arrived?"
+
+"Yes.  I thought I saw Guest and Edie to-night in the darkness.  I was
+going to tell you, but I felt ashamed, thinking you would say what you
+did just now.  But I have met Guest since, and spoken with him.  Five
+minutes ago I heard Sir Mark speaking."
+
+"Great Heavens!" gasped Brettison again.  "Then we have brought him here
+to place wife and husband face to face!"
+
+"Yes," said Stratton hoarsely.
+
+"What is to be done?"
+
+"You must rouse him quietly, and steal out with him.  Bring him along
+under the cliff close up to the inn.  While you are getting him there I
+will go and hire a cart by some means to take us to the next place;
+failing that, I'll arrange with some fishermen to run us along the coast
+in their boat to Saint Malo.  You understand?"
+
+"Yes," said Brettison.  "I understand, but it is impossible."
+
+"Perhaps; but this is the time to perform impossibilities.  It must be
+done!"
+
+"I tell you it is impossible," said Brettison slowly.  "At the first
+attempt to rouse him there would be a scene.  He would turn obstinate
+and enraged.  He is restless, as I told you.  I should have to awaken
+the people here; for I could not force him to leave by the window, and
+this would precipitate the discovery, perhaps bring Sir Mark and your
+friend Guest down from the place above."
+
+"I tell you it must be done," said Stratton, but with less conviction.
+
+"You know it cannot be," said Brettison firmly.  "I am certain that he
+would have one of his fits.  Think of the consequences then."
+
+"I do," whispered Stratton; "and the thoughts are maddening.  What's
+that?"
+
+"Speak lower.  It was Barron moving in his room.  Look here; there need
+be no discovery if we are cool and cautious.  It is absurd to attempt
+anything now.  Wait till the morning.  Let him get up at his usual time.
+He will be quiet and manageable then.  I will keep him in, and wait
+till the Jerrolds are gone out--they are sure to go--most likely to sea
+for a sail--and then join you at the inn, where you can have a carriage
+or boat waiting.  Then we must escape just as we stand; our luggage
+could be fetched another time.  We can be going to take him for a
+drive."
+
+Stratton was silent.
+
+"It is the only way, I'm sure," whispered Brettison.
+
+"Yes," said Stratton, with a sigh; "I am afraid you are right."
+
+"I am sure I am."
+
+"Yes," said Stratton.  "Hist! is that he moving again?"
+
+"And talking in his sleep.  But you are sure there is no doubt?"
+
+"Doubt, man?  No.  Yes, it must be as you say; but, mind, I shall be a
+prisoner at the inn.  I cannot stir out.  You must give me warning when
+you will come."
+
+"And you must not speak or notice him."
+
+"Oh, we must risk all that," said Stratton more loudly.  "Our only
+course is at all risks to get him right away."
+
+"Hush!  Be silent.  Now go."
+
+Stratton hesitated as he heard a low muttering again in the next room;
+but Brettison pressed his hand and thrust him away.
+
+"Go," he said, and softly closed the window, while, after standing
+listening for a few moments, Stratton moved away with a strange
+foreboding of coming peril, and walked back beneath the cliff to the
+inn, where the sleepy servant admitted him with a sigh of relief, and
+wondered how _les Anglais_ could be so strange and care so little for
+their beds.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTY TWO.
+
+THE CULMINATION OF DESPAIR.
+
+Stratton went to his room, put out his light, and threw open the
+casement to sit and listen to the wash and rush of the coming tide.  It
+was darker than ever, for the sea fog had grown dense, and the water
+sobbed and moaned among the rocks, and splashed against the sides of the
+fishing boats in a way that in the silence of the night sounded
+mysterious and strange.
+
+All this added to Stratton's depression, and the sense of coming
+trouble.  It was impossible to pass it over as imaginary, face to face
+as he was with the terrible difficulties before him; for in that tiny
+place, unless Barron was hurried away, a meeting was imminent, and it
+was his doing--his.
+
+Guest laughed at the idea of his presence there being due to fate, he
+recalled; but how else could he think of the strange complication but as
+being wrought out by a greater directing hand?  "And for what?" he
+muttered.  Could it be only to inflict fresh torture upon a gentle,
+loving woman?
+
+The mental outlook was as black and misty as that across the sands to
+the moaning, sighing sea; and as Stratton sat there, with the damp, soft
+air cooling his brow, he longed for rest, and thought of the peace and
+gentle calm that he might find if he could take a boat and sail right
+away into the soft, black darkness.
+
+He shook his head mournfully, though, for he knew that he could not sail
+away from his thoughts, and that it would be the act of a coward to try
+and escape from the sufferings which fell to his lot.
+
+To sleep was impossible.  He did not even think of lying down, but sat
+there waiting for the first streaks of day with the face of Myra always
+before him, her eyes looking gravely into his with a sweet, trustful
+tenderness, which made him recall her visit to his chambers that night
+when she knelt before him with her arms outstretched to take him to her
+breast, and he asked himself why he had shrunk from her--why he had not
+crushed down conscience, and the horror of his having slain her husband,
+and taken her away--anywhere so that they two could have been together
+far from the world and its ways.
+
+For his dread had been his own making.  It was not real.  The shot was
+an accident, not even dealt by his own hand, and the man had lived.
+Myra would have been his, and they might have been happy.
+
+Was it too late, even now?  If he could only reach her ear and tell her
+how all stood.  She loved him--he knew that.  Once with Myra meant till
+death, and she would follow him to the world's end.
+
+"And I sit here," he cried, and started from his seat, "when she is
+there yonder waiting for me.  A word would rouse her from her sleep, if
+she does sleep.  She may be sitting at her window even now, wakeful and
+wretched as I, and ready to trust me, to let me lead her far away from
+all this misery and despair.  Heaven never could mean us to suffer as we
+do.  It is a natural prompting.  She must be waiting for me now."
+
+The moments of exaltation passed, and he sank down again to bury his
+face in his hands, knowing that it was all the madness of a despairing
+man.
+
+No; he could do nothing but that which he and Brettison had planned--
+nothing but wait for the morning, which was yet hours away.
+
+He grew calmer as the night passed on; firmer, too, and there was a
+quiet determination in his thoughts as he felt that some day Myra would
+know all that he had done, and perhaps, after all, happiness might be
+theirs.
+
+For hope came with the approach of day, and when at last the first pale
+dawn appeared in the east, and by degrees there was a delicious
+opalescent tint on the waves, where a soft breeze was slowly wafting
+away the mist, it was a calm, grave, thoughtful man, nerved to the day's
+task, who went forth with the knowledge that the people of the inn were
+already stirring, for, as he stepped out, a casement was opened, and the
+landlady greeted him with the customary _bon jour_.
+
+Stratton returned the greeting, and told her his requirements--a sailing
+boat and men to take him and his friends for a good long cruise.
+
+"Ah, yes!" said the landlady; "of course, and monsieur would pay them
+well,"--and at another time there were Jacques, and Jean, and Andre, and
+many more who would have been so glad--for it was going to be a day
+superb: look at the light on the water like the silver and sheen upon a
+mackerel, to prove her words--but the hands went out last night, and
+would not return in time from the fishing.
+
+"But was there no one else?"
+
+"Not a soul, monsieur.  Why, there was a great nobleman--an old sea
+admiral--English, at the little chateau who had sent only last night,
+wanting a boat to sail with the beautiful ladies he had brought, one of
+whom was a stately old marquise, at least, with hair grey; but no, he
+could not have a boat for any money.  Why could not monsieur take his
+sick friend for a beautiful long drive?"
+
+Stratton jumped at the proposal.
+
+"Yes; that would do," he said.
+
+"Then Guillaume should have the horse and chaise ready at any time
+monsieur chose to name."
+
+A sense of relief came over Stratton as he finished his arrangements.
+The car was to be waiting till the sick friend was brought over, and
+then they would start at once--after breakfast--no, perhaps sooner.  It
+was to be ready for them to start at any time; for the invalid was
+capricious; and it was uncertain when they would come back.
+
+Stratton could do no more but wait.  He dared not show himself for fear
+the admiral might be out early; and he shuddered at the idea of the old
+man strolling about on the sands and encountering Brettison and his
+charge.
+
+But he felt that his old friend would take care, and, going back to his
+rooms with the intention of forcing himself to wait patiently, he
+watched the sun rise in all its glory over the sea of fire, while the
+clouds and mists around were one blaze of effulgent hues.
+
+It was impossible to help a feeling of elation as nature smiled upon him
+full of hope and joy; and the determination to act manfully and well
+grew and grew in Stratton's breast as, in obedience to a thought, he
+went to where a glass hung in the passage of the little inn, and took it
+up to his window.
+
+It was with throbbing heart that he adjusted it, and brought it to bear
+upon the pretty little chateau high upon the cliff, covered with
+creepers, and with its terrace garden a mass of flowers.
+
+He scanned window after window, but not a soul was visible, and after a
+time he brought it to bear on the fisher's cottage at the foot of the
+cliff, where he saw the smoke curling up clear and blue, though it was
+quite a mile away.  Dale's brawny French nurse stood outside in the
+early morning sunshine knitting.  The fisherman was at his boat making
+some repairs, where it lay bottom upward, and his wife was going in and
+out busy over household affairs, but it was too early for sign of the
+other occupants.
+
+After a time Stratton was summoned to breakfast, and, after swallowing a
+little bread and coffee hastily, he made sure that the car and driver
+were ready, and with the excitement growing, returned to his place of
+observation with the glass, where he was seen by the landlady, who
+remarked to herself how anxious monsieur was about his friend.
+
+At that moment the glass was trembling, and its eyepiece seemed blurred;
+for it was fixed upon the figure of a tall, graceful woman, standing
+outside one of the windows in the terrace garden of the little chateau,
+with a hand raised to shade her eyes, as she looked along the coast
+line, but appeared to be gazing straight at where Stratton watched her
+with the glass.
+
+One minute of delirious joy as he observed her features, then all was
+blurred, and he closed up the glass; he dared not gaze, for his brain
+swam, and when the insane desire to look once more came over him, and he
+yielded, the figure in its soft, white, clinging drapery, was gone, and
+he sternly turned the glass upon the cottage, to watch for the coming of
+Brettison, till his eyes refused to distinguish the place.
+
+He felt that they ought to be on their way now, while the occupants of
+the house above were at their morning meal; but there was still no sign,
+and another hour passed full of agony for Stratton, till he forced
+himself to believe that Brettison was acting for the best, and that
+there must be good reason for his keeping back.
+
+He took the glass again, and concluded why his friend had not come; for
+he saw a group now upon the terrace, and directly after could trace
+their descent beyond the cottage to the sands--the admiral first, with
+Myra leaning on his arm, then the stately figure of Miss Jerrold, and
+lastly Edie and Guest; and all so close to him that he could almost read
+the expression on their features as they stopped and walked past the
+cottage as if about to come in his direction.
+
+Stratton's heart beat, for there was the possibility of Barron appearing
+at the cottage door, but they turned again, went on toward the
+south-east and soon disappeared beyond the rocks which lay scattered
+along the shore.
+
+"Brettison will be here directly," thought Stratton, and after watching
+for a few minutes a thought struck him: they would perhaps come along
+the path at the top of the cliff, and in the belief that this might be
+so he hurried out to warn the car driver to be ready.
+
+Hardly had he returned to his room when the landlady appeared to say
+that a boy was there to deliver a message to him alone, and, upon going
+out, a heavy looking peasant announced that he was to go on to the
+cottage.
+
+Stratton caught up his hat and started, full of anxiety, for it was
+evident that Brettison was having trouble with their charge, who was
+perhaps obstinate and fretful, while before he was half-way there he
+began to regret not bringing the car, so that they might have started at
+once.
+
+But he felt the next moment that it was folly to bring a wheeled vehicle
+down upon that heavy sand, and keeping a sharp lookout for those he
+wished to avoid, and taking advantage of every sheltering rock, he at
+length reached the cottage, at whose door he was met by the fisherman.
+
+Stratton saw at a glance that something was wrong; but before he could
+get out a word the fisherman's wife, who was evidently suffering from
+fear, stammered that she was desolated to have to send for the monsieur.
+
+"Where is my friend?" said Stratton sharply.
+
+"In his chamber, monsieur, exceedingly ill."
+
+Stratton hurried in, to find Brettison in bed looking pinched of cheek,
+his eyes sunken and blue beneath the lids, and perfectly insensible.
+
+"What does this mean?" cried Stratton.
+
+"We did not hear the gentleman moving this morning, but my husband heard
+him stirring in the night, sir; oh, yes; and when I went to call him he
+answered so strangely that I entered and gave a cry, for he looked as if
+he was going to the death, monsieur.
+
+"I wanted to send for you, but he forbade me.  He said he would be
+better soon, and I made him tea, and gave him some cognac, and he grew
+better, then worse, then better again.  It is something bad with his
+throat, monsieur.  Look, it is--all worse, quite blue."
+
+Stratton gazed at the livid marks in horror.
+
+"Where is Mr Cousin, our invalid?" he said, beginning to tremble now.
+
+"Oh, he, monsieur, he insisted upon going out on the sands with his
+attendant Margot."
+
+"Which way?" gasped Stratton.
+
+"Yonder, monsieur," said the woman, pointing to the south-east.
+
+"Here, get cognac; bathe his face," panted Stratton, half wild now with
+horror; "and send someone for the nearest doctor.  Quick.  I shall be
+back soon--if I live," he muttered as he rushed off through the deep,
+loose sand to find and bring back their charge before he encountered the
+Jerrolds on the beach.
+
+He could not see far for the rocks that strewed the shore, which was
+apparently deserted.  The sun beat down upon his head, and the effort to
+advance grew more painful, and yet he passed through maze after maze of
+stones fallen in huge masses from the cliffs above, without seeing a
+sign, till all at once, as he passed round one huge mass, beyond which
+lay scores of others covered with barnacle and weed, he heard voices,
+and stopped short, hidden from the group before him by one of the rocks.
+
+His toil had been in vain, and a jealous, maddening pang shot through
+him.
+
+There, some forty yards away, sat Barron upon a huge boulder, his back
+propped against a rock, and his attendant knitting a short distance
+back, while Miss Jerrold sat on the sands reading beneath a great
+sunshade.  The admiral was smoking his cigar, looking down at Barron;
+Edie and Guest were together; and Myra, pale, gentle, and with a smile
+upon her lip, was offering the invalid a bunch of grapes, which he was
+gently taking from her hand.
+
+"The past condoned," said Stratton to himself; "the future--well, he is
+her husband, after all.  Great Heavens, am I really mad, or is all this
+a waking dream?"
+
+He staggered back and nearly fell, so terrible was the rush of horror
+through his brain, but he could not draw away his eyes, and he saw that
+Barron was speaking and holding out his hand--that Myra responded by
+laying hers within his palm, and the fingers closed upon it--fingers
+that not many hours back must have held Brettison's throat in a deadly
+grip.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.
+
+JULES IS FROM HOME.
+
+"And that is the woman who told me she loved me!" said Stratton as he
+drew back behind the rocks and walked slowly away.
+
+There was a strangely mingled feeling in his breast; one moment it was
+horror, the next disgust, that they two should join hands: she so young
+and beautiful, he prematurely aged and little better than an idiot.
+Then it was misery--then despair, which swept over his soul to join
+forces and harrow him so that he felt that he could bear no more.
+
+It was the thought of Brettison that saved him just as the blood was
+rushing to his head and a stroke was imminent.
+
+He had left his friend apparently dying, and had rushed off to save
+Myra.
+
+"While I was wanted there," he muttered in a weak, piteous way.  "Ah, it
+has all been a dream, and now I am awake.  Poor Brettison, my best
+friend after all."
+
+For a few moments the blood flushed to his temples in his resentment
+against Myra, and then against Guest; for, after all that he had said to
+him on the past night, how could he entirely accept the position he
+occupied and remain tacit and content there with that man in his
+company?
+
+"Another slave to a woman's charms!" he said, with a bitter laugh.
+"Poor old Percy! how can I blame him after what I have done myself for a
+weak, contemptible woman's sake?"
+
+He stopped short, grinding his teeth together in resentment against
+himself; for Myra's sadly wasted face rose before him with her eyes full
+of reproach.
+
+"It is not true," he cried; "it is not true.  She could not help
+herself.  They have driven her to it, or else--No, no, I cannot think."
+
+He moved on toward the cottage, threading his way more by instinct than
+sight among the rocks, but only to stop short again, horrified by the
+thought that now assailed him.  That man--Barron or Dale--it was not
+safe that he should be trusted with Myra.  It was madness after what had
+taken place.
+
+He thrust his fingers into his ears as if to shut out the voice that
+seemed to urge these things upon him; but the voice was within, and he
+hastened on more rapidly till he reached the cottage, where the
+fisherman's wife was bathing Brettison's forehead, and she gave him a
+frightened look as he entered.
+
+His old friend's eyes were opened, and he looked wildly at Stratton as
+he entered, and feebly raised one hand.
+
+"Dale!" he whispered as he clung to Stratton.
+
+"Hush! don't talk."
+
+"I--must," he said feebly.  "Mind that he does not leave the place.
+To-night you must get help and take him away."
+
+"I am right, then--he did attack you?"
+
+"Yes, not long after you had gone.  I was asleep, when I was awakened
+with a start, thinking you had returned, but I was borne back directly.
+He had me by the throat.  Malcolm, lad, I thought it was all over.  I
+struggled, but he was too strong.  I remember thinking of your words,
+and then all was blank till I saw a light in the room, and found these
+people attending me.  I had awakened them with my groans.  They do not
+grasp the truth.  Don't tell them.  Let them think it is an affection of
+the throat, but we must never trust him again."
+
+"There will be no need," said Stratton bitterly.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"He has gone."
+
+"You have let him escape?  No; you have handed him over to the police.
+Oh, my dear boy, you shouldn't have done that.  The man is mad."
+
+"I told you I should not do so," said Stratton coldly.  "You are wrong."
+
+"But you stand there.  Good Heavens, man!  Those two may meet.  Don't
+mind me.  I am better now.  Go at once."
+
+"No, I shall not leave you till you are fit to move."
+
+"It is not an illness, but an injury, which will soon pass off.  Go at
+once.  Man, do you not see that he may find her, after all."
+
+"He has found her," said Stratton slowly, and speaking in a strangely
+mechanical way.
+
+"What!"
+
+"Or they have found him."  And he told the old man all he had seen.
+
+Brettison heard him to the end, and then faintly, but with conviction in
+his tones, he cried:
+
+"Impossible!  It cannot be true."
+
+Stratton looked at him wistfully, and shook his head.
+
+"No," he said, drawing a deep breath; "it cannot be true."
+
+Brettison, whose breathing was painful, lay back watching his companion
+with dilated eyes, and then turned to the woman who had drawn back from
+the bed and waited while her visitor talked to his friend.
+
+"Madame," he said in French, "Monsieur Cousin?"
+
+She turned from the window where she had been watching.
+
+"Out on the sands, monsieur," she said in a startled way.  "My good man
+says he is sitting with the new company who have come since yesterday to
+the house above."
+
+"Where is your husband?"
+
+"Out, sir.  He--he was obliged to go to the _ville_."
+
+"And still it is impossible," said Stratton slowly as he looked
+appealingly in the old man's eyes.  "It cannot be true.  Brettison, tell
+me that my mind is wandering; all this is more than I can bear."
+
+"Shall I wait, monsieur?" asked the woman, who was trembling visibly.
+
+"No, I am better now," said Brettison.  "Leave me with my friend,"--and
+as soon as they were alone--"I shall not want a doctor now.  There is
+some mystery here, Malcolm, lad, far more than we know."
+
+"Thank God!" said Stratton, sinking into a chair and covering his face
+with his hands.
+
+"Stratton," cried the old man fiercely, "is it a time to give up weakly
+like that?"
+
+The stricken man started to his feet, and threw back his head as if his
+friend's words had suddenly galvanised him into life and action.
+
+"That man is not to be trusted for an hour.  You know it, and yet you
+stand there leaving her in his hands.  Even if it were possible that her
+father has condoned the past, he does not know what is familiar to us.
+But he has not.  Boy, I tell you there is some mistake."
+
+"What shall I do?" said Stratton hoarsely.
+
+"Go to them at once.  Tell them of his attack upon me."
+
+"They have forgotten the past, and will say it is the invention of a
+jealous enemy."
+
+"Then I will go myself," cried the old man; and, feeble though he was,
+he insisted upon dressing for his self-imposed task.
+
+"They will believe me," he said; "and though I can hardly think there is
+danger to anyone but us, whom Barron seems instinctively to associate
+with his injury, Sir Mark must know the facts."
+
+"Yes," said Stratton gravely; "he must know.  I will go with you now.
+He cannot doubt you."
+
+The old man tottered a little, but his strong will supplied the
+strength, and, taking his stick, they moved toward the door.
+
+"We have done wrong, Stratton," he said; "the man should have been
+denounced.  I ought to have acted more wisely, but at first my only
+thought was to save you from the consequences of your misfortune, and
+keep all I knew from ever reaching Myra's ears.  Our sin has found us
+out, and there is nothing for it but to make a clean breast now."
+
+Stratton hesitated for a few moments.
+
+"You are too feeble," he said.
+
+"Oh, yes," cried the woman, who came forward.  "Monsieur is too ill to
+go out.  It is horrible that he should be so bad at our poor house."
+
+"You say your husband is out?"
+
+"Oh, yes, monsieur.  I begged him not to go, but he said that he must
+go."
+
+"Not to fetch a doctor?"
+
+"N-no, monsieur," faltered the woman hysterically.  "It is not my fault,
+monsieur; I begged him not to go--and--_O Ciel_! that it should have
+happened."
+
+"No one blames you, my good woman," said Stratton as she burst into a
+hysterical fit of sobbing, while Brettison looked at her strangely.  "If
+he had been here he could have helped my friend down to the sands."
+
+"And monsieur will forgive us," sobbed the woman; "we are poor, honest
+people, and it is so terrible for your good friend to be like that."
+
+"Quick!" said Brettison.  "I am strong enough.  Let's get it over before
+something happens."
+
+He clung to Stratton's arm, and, supporting himself with his stick, he
+made a brave effort, and, gaining strength out in the soft sea air, he
+walked slowly but pretty firmly along by the foot of the cliff.
+
+"If Jules would only return," sobbed the woman hysterically.  "Oh, that
+such a misfortune should come upon our home!  Poor gentleman! and he
+bears it like a lamb."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.
+
+BARRON-DALE HAS A RELAPSE.
+
+Brettison's progress was slow, but he refused to sit down and rest.
+
+"We must get there," he said; "we must get there."
+
+Stratton shuddered slightly, and for the moment felt that he ought to
+press on; but he knew that his words would have ten times the force with
+the admiral backed up by Brettison's presence, so he restrained himself
+and helped his companion along till they came in sight of the rocks, a
+good-sized boat keeping pace with them a couple of hundred yards out,
+its owners having hard work to stem the current which ran along the
+shore.
+
+"Is it much farther?" said Brettison at last.  "I am weaker than I
+thought."
+
+"Seventy or eighty yards; just beyond those rocks," cried Stratton.
+
+"Hah, then I am strong enough," cried Brettison, with a sigh of relief;
+and after a few moments' pause he stepped out again; they passed the
+rocks, and the doubt which had existed in Stratton's mind as to whether
+the party would still be where he left them was set at rest.  But he
+started as he saw that they were gathered together as if there were some
+cause of excitement.
+
+"Come along," he whispered quickly.
+
+They were hurrying along, when there was a joyful cry, and the sturdy
+Breton woman chosen for Dale's attendant cried out:
+
+"Ah, monsieur; quick! quick!  Here--help!"
+
+Stratton quitted Brettison's side and rushed forward, to see, as the
+group opened, a sight that made his blood boil with rage.
+
+Dale was holding Myra's wrist with his left hand and struggling
+violently with the admiral and Guest, who were afraid to exert their
+strength for fear of injuring Myra, who was supported by Margot with one
+arm, while with her strong fingers she grasped her patient's wrist in
+turn.
+
+"Quick, monsieur!" cried Margot; "it is a fit.  He is half-mad."
+
+Forgetting everything but the fact that Myra was in this scoundrel's
+grasp, Stratton sprang at him, catching him by the throat to try and
+make him quit his hold.
+
+"Mr Stratton!" cried Sir Mark in angry amazement.
+
+The name acted like magic.  Dale shook himself free of the admiral and
+Margot, loosening Myra's wrist in the act, and with an angry snarl, like
+that of some wild beast, fixed his hands on Stratton's throat.
+
+In spite of his last meeting Guest flew to his friend's assistance, and
+Margot bravely flung her arms about her patient's waist; but in spite of
+all the man's strength for the moment was gigantic, and, paying no heed
+to the others, he sought to vent his rage upon Stratton, who felt
+himself growing weaker and weaker in his enemy's grasp.
+
+Twice over as they swayed here and there he caught sight of Myra's face
+convulsed with horror while she clung to her cousin, and her look
+unnerved him so that it would have gone hard with him but for the
+arrival of a party of four men who had landed from the boat that had
+kept pace with them along the shore.
+
+One of these was the fisherman, the two others were a couple of
+_gendarmes_ and another fisher, and the two officers threw themselves
+into the fray, with the result that the next minute Dale was firmly
+secured and held.
+
+"This is the man, then," panted one of the officers.
+
+"Yes," said the fisherman from the cottage.  "I say he tried to strangle
+this gentleman in the night at my place.  Look at his throat."
+
+"It is quite true," said Brettison.
+
+"And you told us, monsieur," cried the fisherman reproachfully, "that
+your friend was imbecile, and that we need not fear."
+
+"Yes," said Brettison sadly.  "I was wrong, but I have been punished for
+my sin.  Malcolm Stratton," he continued, turning to his friend, who
+stood there with his breast heaving still, and gazing wildly at Myra,
+who met his eyes with a piteous look, mingled of gratitude, sorrow, and
+despair, "I call upon you for the sake of all here to denounce this man
+to the officers."
+
+"I cannot," said Stratton, with a quick look from Myra to Sir Mark and
+back.  "That task shall never be mine."
+
+"Will monsieur say those words in French?" said the officer who had
+spoken before, and who was busy brushing the sand from his uniform.  "I
+understand English a little, but I cannot trust myself at a time like
+this."
+
+"Forgive me, then, Sir Mark," said Brettison firmly, and speaking now in
+excellent French, "and you, too, my child," he said, taking and kissing
+Myra's hand.  "I have tried for your sake and that of the man I love as
+a son to spare you pain, but the time has come when this must end.
+Officers, this man, an imbecile save at rare intervals, when he has
+these violent homicidal fits, is James Barron, or Dale, a convict
+escaped from one of the English pris--"
+
+Myra uttered a wild cry and hid her face on her aunt's breast.
+
+"Brettison!" roared Stratton.
+
+"Mr Brettison, have you taken leave of your senses?" cried Sir Mark.
+"James Barron!"
+
+"Bah!" said the convict, "the game is up.  Henderson's my name, Sam
+Henderson, James Barron's fellow-prisoner and mate.  Poor old Dandy Jem
+was shot dead that night!  Where's Stratton?" he cried, with a curious
+change coming over him.  "Ah! there.  Now, man, no shuffling.  The
+game's in my hands, you know.  Come, pay up like a man.  They're waiting
+for you--at the church--my wife--what's her name--pretty Myra--my mate
+Jem's widow--gentleman James, sir--all the swell--but I did it--I
+engraved the notes."
+
+He smiled and chuckled.
+
+"Proud of them.  Puzzled the clever ones.  The Rothschilds hardly knew,
+eh, Jem?  Well, you always were a swell.  And so you mean to marry the
+gal?  Well, I warn you; it's getting too hot.  Better cut off together
+till the scent's cold.  There, I've warned you.  I thought so: nabbed.
+All right, gentlemen, I'll come quietly.  Easy with my mate.  Going to
+be married this morning.  Do you hear, Stratton? married this morning!
+My wife, you can have her.  My little widow.  Hush! quiet, will you.  We
+shall never do it.  Oh, yes, I'm game.  Ugh, hard work.  They're after
+us, and we shall have to rush 'em.  Right, Jem.  I'll stand any risk.
+Hold together, and then down the rocks!"
+
+The man's face was working horribly, and his eyes were dilated with
+excitement as he rambled on wildly, mingling up the past in one tangle
+of confusion as he, in brief, gave suggestions to the horrified
+listeners of the various scenes enacted in his life.
+
+"Now, then," he whispered, "ready.  Off.  Ah!" he shrieked, "don't
+shoot--don't shoot.  Cowards!  Ugh! the water--a long swim--but it's for
+life--for life; and poor old Jem--handsome Jem, shot--shot!"
+
+The man's whole manner changed; the twitching of the muscles, the
+excited playing of the nerves, and the wild look in the eyes gave place
+to the vacant, heavy stare, and his hand rose slowly to his neck, and
+played about the back of his ear.
+
+"Shot," he said, "shot," looking up at the admiral and smiling.  "A
+bullet--behind the ear--never found it yet--never found--"
+
+"Quick!" cried Stratton, stepping forward so as to hide the ghastly
+contortions that crossed the man's face from the ladies clinging
+together in a frightened group.
+
+"Yes," said Brettison, with a sigh of relief, "for Heaven's sake,
+officers, take him away."
+
+They bore him instantly toward the boat, just as Myra uttered a low sigh
+and fainted dead away.
+
+It was some minutes before she came to again, to find Stratton kneeling
+by her side holding her hand, while the others stood a little aloof.
+
+For a few moments there was a wild and wondering look in her eyes, but
+it was softened directly by her tears, as she whispered:
+
+"I don't quite grasp it all, Malcolm.  Only tell me that is it true--
+that you really love me, dear?"
+
+"As true as that I can hold your hand in mine, clear from all stain, and
+that you are free--my love, my wife."
+
+"But," cried the admiral in the further explanations which ensued, "do I
+understand, my lad, that you all along took this man for Dale?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"But you had surely seen him at my house?"
+
+"I saw from a distance the man arrested on the wedding morn, but he was
+surrounded by the crowd, and I never caught his face."
+
+"But you were present at the trial," said Brettison.
+
+"No.  I never entered the court.  I could not go to gloat over my
+rival's fall.  I merely waited for the result."
+
+"I remember now; I saw you waiting there," said Brettison thoughtfully.
+"And I, of course, saw the prisoners side by side, but from the gallery,
+right behind and far above.  I never caught a glimpse of either face
+until they turned to leave the dock, and then it was this man's only--
+the other prisoner went first."
+
+"And I could not see in this wretched madman's altered features the
+scoundrel I had seen in court!" cried the admiral.
+
+"Who could have dreamed it was the same?" cried Guest.  "Poor wretch!
+his face was like an old well-worn shilling till that fit came on.
+Here!  Mal, old fellow, quick!"
+
+"It is nothing--nothing," said Brettison faintly as Stratton saved him
+from a heavy fall.  "My encounter last night--a little giddy still.
+Your arm, my boy; I'm better now.  Well; for have I not saved you both--
+brought you full happiness and joy?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE.
+
+THE LAST CLOUD.
+
+"Jules, you are a bad--a naughty!" cried Margot angrily.  "You and your
+wife never tell me of what takes place while I sleep; you send me out
+with my patient, and never tell me he is dangerous; and then you rob me
+of my bread by getting him sent away.  It is ruin, and I must go back to
+the town and starve."
+
+"Never," cried a pleasant little voice behind her; and she turned
+sharply round to see Edie and Guest, the former smiling through her
+tears.  "Have no fear about that, my poor Margot.  Come up to the house
+and help, as my poor cousin is very weak and ill."
+
+"My faith, dear miss, I will," cried the sturdy Breton woman.
+
+In fact, Margot's hands were pretty full during the next month, for she
+had two patients to tend--at the little chateau and in the cottage just
+below.
+
+"Ah! bah, madame," she said, looking up from her knitting.  "What do I
+do?  Nothing.  The beloved miss grows better and more beautiful day by
+day, and is it I?  Is it the good physician come from Saint Malo?  Name
+of a little cider apple! no.  Look at the dear old monsieur there."
+
+She pointed with a knitting needle to where Brettison sat, propped up in
+a chair in the shadow of the rock with a table before him, and Miss
+Jerrold, who looked very old and grey and stately, turned her head,
+nodded, and went on with the embroidery about which her busy fingers
+played.
+
+"He says to me, `You must go up on the cliffs this morning, Margot, and
+bring me every flower you can find.'  I go, madame, and--"
+
+"One moment, Margot; you always forget I am mademoiselle, not madame."
+
+"The greater the pity, mad'moiselle.  You so young looking still you
+should be the beautiful mother of many children, or a widow like me.
+What of the monsieur?  I take him every morning all the flowers, and
+there, see, he is as happy with them as a little child.  Of my other
+sick one--look at her--"
+
+She pointed with the other needle just set free to where Myra and
+Stratton were also seated in the shade gazing dreamily out to where the
+anchored sailing boats rose and fell upon the calm blue water.
+
+Aunt Jerrold looked through her half-closed eyes, smiled and nodded
+again.
+
+"Faith of a good woman!" said Margot, "does she want a nurse, does she
+want a physician?  No.  The good doctor is by her side, and ever since
+the day when the bad man was taken I have seen the beautiful brown of
+the sea air and the rose of the sun come into her cheeks.  It is a folly
+my being here now, but if mademoiselle and the great sea captain will
+keep my faithful services till they marry and be happy; and oh,
+mademoiselle," cried Margot, turning her eyes up toward the sky, and
+displaying her white teeth, "the way that I adore the dear, dear little
+children!"
+
+"Margot!" cried Miss Jerrold austerely, and she rose and walked away.
+
+"Faith of a good woman! what have I said?" muttered Margot, looking now
+at where Guest and Edie had gone down to a rock pool in which they were
+fishing with their hands for prawns, but catching each other's fingers
+instead deep down under the weeds.  "They will all marry, and very soon.
+Ah! those old maids!"
+
+The one to whom she specially referred had gone to sit down now by her
+brother, who was scanning a vessel in the offing with his glass.
+
+"French man-of-war, Rebecca," he said.  "Fine vessel, but only a
+confounded imitation of one of ours."
+
+"Yes, dear, I suppose so," said his sister, and she went on with her
+embroidery.
+
+"Are you getting tired of the place, Mark?" she said suddenly.
+
+"Eh?  Tired!  What for?  It's beautiful and calm, and there's water and
+a bit of shipping, and everyone seems to be happy and comfortable.
+Tired?  No!  Are you?"
+
+"Oh, no, dear, only I thought we could not go on much longer like this."
+
+"Let fate alter it, then," said the admiral gruffly.  "Don't catch me at
+it.  Myra hasn't suggested such a thing."
+
+"She?  No," said Miss Jerrold quickly.  "O Mark!" she cried, "I am so
+glad to see her happy once again."
+
+"God bless her, yes.  I think she must have had all the trouble meant
+for her life in one big storm, so that she may have a calm passage right
+to the end."
+
+"I pray that it may be so," said Aunt Jerrold fervently.  "How happy she
+looks."
+
+"Yes," said Sir Mark, closing the glass through which he had watched her
+while his sister spoke.
+
+They were right, for the calm had come.  Seated hand in hand, Stratton
+had told Myra in the soft, dim light of evening, while the waters
+murmured at her feet, all the tangle of his troubles, and she had
+literally forced him to tell her all again and again, for the narrative
+was never tedious to her as a twice told tale, while the knowledge of
+all that he had suffered for her sake drew the bond between them in a
+faster knot.
+
+On this particular morning, when all was bright and sunny, there yet was
+one cloud near, for a servant came out from the cottage to say that
+monsieur was wanted.
+
+Stratton sprang up, and Myra rose and clung to his arm, her eyes
+dilating with the dread of some new trouble.  But he at once calmed her.
+
+"There can be no trouble now that we could not meet," he whispered; and
+she sank back in her seat to watch him till he disappeared within the
+door.
+
+The officer who had arrested Henderson was standing in the little room
+Stratton used, and with him a thin, earnest looking man in black, who
+seemed to wear an official uniform as well as air.
+
+Bows were exchanged, and then the latter produced some papers.
+
+"I have come, monsieur, respecting the man Barron-Dale," he said in very
+good English.  "As you know, monsieur, we have been in communication
+with the English authorities, and, as we have reported to you from time
+to time, there has been a reluctance on their part to investigate the
+matter."
+
+"Yes, I have heard all this," said Stratton, trying to be calm.
+
+"They were disposed to treat him as an impostor, and at last sent us
+word definitely that Barron-Dale and Henderson certainly died in their
+attempt to escape from your great prison.  The correspondence has gone
+on, monsieur, till now, and I believe that the English authorities were
+about to send an officer to investigate the matter; but, as you have
+been informed, the man has been growing worse and worse while ill in the
+infirmary of the prison at Barville.  Yesterday he had a bad attack--a
+fit."
+
+He paused for a moment or two, looking gravely at Stratton.
+
+"The difficulty is solved now, monsieur," said the officer gravely.  "He
+did not recover from the fit.  Our doctors have found the cause of those
+attacks--a pistol bullet was imbedded close to the brain."
+
+"The bullet from his own pistol," thought Stratton.  "The shot he meant
+for me."
+
+A few minutes after Stratton left the officer, and went straight to
+where Myra was waiting, trembling with excitement.
+
+"There is some fresh peril, Malcolm," she cried as she caught his hand.
+
+"No, dearest," he said slowly; "the last cloud has passed away."
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Witness to the Deed, by George Manville Fenn
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITNESS TO THE DEED ***
+
+***** This file should be named 25607.txt or 25607.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/6/0/25607/
+
+Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.