hes. Another charge--but I make no apology. I wish
you to divide it in three equal shares: two to be employed as you see
best, for the widows and families of those poor fellows of the
preventive service, victims of my venture; the third, as well as my
beautiful _Peregrine_, I leave to the mate and men who served me so
faithfully. They have fled with her, and must avoid England for some
time. But Renny will contrive to hear of them; they are bound to
return in secret for tidings, and I should like to feel that the
misery I have left behind me may be mitigated.... And now, dear
Adrian, that is all. The man outside grows impatient. I hear him
shuffling his keys. Hark! there he knocks; the fellow has a certain
rude feeling for me. An honest fellow. Dear Adrian, good-bye."

"My God! this is hard--is there nothing else--nothing--can indeed all
my friendship be of no further help?--Hubert!"

"Hush, hush," cried Jack Smith hastily, "Adrian, you alone of all
living beings now know me by that name. Never let it cross your lips
again. I could not die in peace were it not for the thought that I
bring no discredit upon it. My mother believes me dead--God in His
mercy has spared me the crowning misery of bringing shame to her white
hairs--shame to the old race. Hubert Cochrane died ten years ago.
Jack Smith alone it is that dies by the hangman's hand. One other,"
his voice softened and the hard look of pain left his face, "one other
shall hear the secret besides you--but I know she will never speak of
it, even to you--and such is my wish."

It was the pride of race at its last and highest expression.

There was the sound, without, of the key in the lock.

"One last word--if you love me, nay, as you love me--do not be there
on Saturday! This parting with you--the good-bye to her--that is my
death. Afterwards what happens to this flesh," he struck at himself
with his chained hands, "matters no more than what will happen to the
soulless corpse. I know you would come to help me with the feeling of
your love, your presence--but do not--do not--and now good-bye!"

Adrian seized his friend by the hands with a despairing grip, the door
rolled back with its dismal screech.

The prisoner smiled at him with tender eyes. This man whom, all
unwillingly he had robbed of his wife's heart, was broken with grief
that he could not save the life that had brought him misery. Here was
a friend to be proud of, even at the gate of death!

"God be