erstand that you are threatening me?" Hamel murmured.

Mr. Fentolin smiled.

"Scarcely that, my young friend. I am not quite the obvious sort of
villain who flourishes revolvers and lures his victims into secret
chambers. These words to you are simply words of warning. I am not like
other men, neither am I used to being crossed. When I am crossed, I
am dangerous. Leave here, if you will, in safety, and mind your own
affairs; but if you show one particle of curiosity as to mine, if you
interfere in matters which concern me and me only, remember that you are
encircled by powers which are entirely ruthless, absolutely omnipotent.
You can walk back to the Tower to-night and remember that there isn't a
step you take which might not be your last if I willed it, and never a
soul the wiser. There's a very hungry little mother here who takes
her victims and holds them tight. You can hear her calling to you now.
Listen!"

He held up his finger. The tide had turned, and through the half-open
window came the low thunder of the waves.

"You decline to share my evening," Mr. Fentolin concluded. "Let it be
so. Go your own way, Hamel, only take care that your way does not cross
mine."

He backed his chair slowly and pressed the bell. Hamel felt himself
dismissed. He passed out into the hall. The door of the drawing-room
stood open, and he heard the sound of Mrs. Fentolin's thin voice singing
some little French song. He hesitated and then stepped in. With one hand
she beckoned him to her, continuing to play all the time. He stepped
over to her side.

"I come to make my adieux," he whispered, with a glance towards the
door.

"You are leaving, then?" she asked quickly.

He nodded.

"Mr. Fentolin is in a strange humour," she went on, a moment later,
after she had struck the final chords of her song. "There are things
going on around us which no one can understand. I think that one of his
schemes has miscarried; he has gone too far. He suspects you; I cannot
tell you why or how. If only you would go away!"

"What about Esther?" he asked quietly.

"You must leave her," she cried, with a little catch in her throat.
"Gerald has broken away. Esther and I must carry still the burden."

She motioned him to go. He touched her fingers for a moment.

"Mrs. Fentolin," he said, "I have been a good many years making up my
mind. Now that I have done so, I do not think that any one will keep
Esther from me."

She looked at him a little