id.

"Why, what have I done?" I said, in a dazed kind of a way. "Done!" he
repeated. "You know best about that, in spite of the part you play.
Nevertheless, Kaffar has not gone without leaving a friend behind him,
and you will have to show how you came by that"--pointing to the knife,
which I had dropped with a shudder; "this"--holding up the neckcloth;
"you must explain these marks"--pointing to footmarks near the water's
edge; "besides which, you will have to produce my friend."

A terrible thought flashed into my mind. I had again been acting under
the influence of this man's power. By some means he had made me the
slave of his will, and I had unknowingly killed Kaffar, and he, like the
fiend he was, had come to sweep me out of his road. Perchance, too,
Kaffar's death might serve him in good stead. Undoubtedly the Egyptian
knew too much for Voltaire, and so I was made a tool whereby he could be
freed from troublesome obstacles. The idea maddened me. I would proclaim
the story to every one. If I were hanged I cared not. I opened my mouth
to tell Tom the whole truth, but I could not utter a word. My tongue
refused to articulate; my power of speech left me.

My position was too terrible. My overwrought nerves yielded at last. I
felt my head whirling around, while streams of icy water seemed to be
running down my legs. Then I fell down at Tom Temple's feet.

For some time after that I remembered nothing distinctly. I have some
idea of stumbling along, with Tom on one side of me and Voltaire on the
other, but no word was spoken until we came to Temple Hall. Then I heard
Tom say--

"He's better now. You go into the drawing-room as if nothing had
happened, and I'll take him quietly up-stairs to bed."

I entered the silent house like one in a dream, and went with Tom to my
bedroom, where I undressed like a weary child, and soon sunk into a deep
dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER XII

A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE

Some one was knocking at the door.

"Who's there?"

"Tom Temple."

I sprang out of bed and let him in. He looked very grave, very worried.
Instantly everything flashed through my mind in relation to our terrible
meeting of the night before.

"It's nine o'clock, Justin."

"Yes, Tom, I suppose it must be," I said confusedly; "but I have only
just awoke."

"I thought I must come; I want to talk with you."

"Thank you, Tom; I am glad you have come."

"How are you this morning? Is your mind clear?"

"Fai