he search a long one. Soon he
saw a huddled mass lying in the sand.

He went up to it and placed the lantern down upon a boulder.

Horror had entirely left him. The crisis of terror at his own fell deed
had been terrible but brief. His was not a nature to shrink from
unpleasant sights, nor at such times do men have cause to recoil from
contact with the dead.

In the murderer's heart there was no real remorse for the crime which
he had committed.

"Bah! why did the fool get in my way?" was the first mental comment
which he made when he caught sight of Lambert's body.

Then with a final shrug of the shoulders he dismissed pity, horror or
remorse, entirely from his thoughts.

What he now did was to raise the smith's body from the ground and to
strip it of its clothing. 'Twas a grim task, on which his chroniclers
have never cared to dwell. His purpose was fixed. He had planned and
thought it all out minutely, and he was surely not the man to flinch at
the execution of a project once he had conceived it.

The death of Adam Lambert should serve a double purpose: the silencing
of an avowed enemy and the wiping out of the personality of Prince Amede
d'Orleans.

The latter was as important as the first. It would facilitate the
realizing of the fortune and, above all, clear the way for Sir
Marmaduke's future life.

Therefore, however gruesome the task, which was necessary in order to
attain that great goal, the schemer accomplished it, with set teeth and
an unwavering hand.

What he did do on that lonely fog-ridden beach and in the silence of
that dank and misty night, was to dress up the body of Adam Lambert, the
smith, in the fantastic clothing of Prince Amede d'Orleans: the red
cloth doublet, the lace collars and cuffs, the bunches of ribbon at knee
and waist, and the black silk shade over the left eye. All he omitted
were the perruque and the false mustache.

Having accomplished this work, he himself donned the clothes of Adam
Lambert.

This part of his task being done, he had to rest for a while. 'Tis no
easy matter to undress and redress an inert mass.

The smith, dressed in the elaborate accouterments of the mysterious
French prince, now lay face upwards on the sand.

The tide was rapidly setting in. In less than half an hour it would
reach this portion of the beach.

Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse, however, had not yet accomplished all that he
meant to do. He knew that the sea-waves had a habit of returning