spoke with an air of reflection, which might have been entirely
disinterested.

"He'd probably commit suicide first," said Twiddel, "and of course I'd get
all the blame."

"Or homicide," replied Welsh, "When _he_ would."

"No, he wouldn't--that's the worst of it; I'd be blamed for having my own
throat cut."

"Twiddel," said his friend, deliberately, "it seems to me you're a fool."

"I'm at least alive," cried Twiddel, warming with sympathy for himself,
"which I probably wouldn't be for long in Mr Essington's company."

"I don't blame your nerves, dear boy," said Welsh, with a smile that
showed all his teeth, "only your head. Here are L500 going a-begging.
There must be some way----" He paused, deep in reflection. "How would it
do," he remarked in a minute, "if _I_ were to go in your place?"

Twiddel laughed and shook his head.

"Couldn't be managed?"

"Couldn't possibly, I'm afraid."

"No," said Welsh. "I foresee difficulties."

He fished a pipe out of his pocket, filled and lit it, and leaned back in
his chair gazing at the ceiling.

"Twiddel, my boy," he said at length, "will you give me a percentage of
the fee if I think of a safe dodge for getting the money and preserving
your throat?"

Twiddel laughed.

"Rather!" he said.

"I am perfectly serious," replied Welsh, keenly. "I'm certain the thing is
quite possible."

He half closed his eyes and ruminated in silence. The doctor watched
him--fascinated, afraid. Somehow or other he felt that he was already a
kind of Guy Fawkes. There was something so unlawful in Welsh's expression.

They sat there without speaking for about ten minutes, and then all of a
sudden Welsh sprang up with a shout of laughter, slapping first his own
leg and then the doctor's back.

"By Gad, I've got it!" he cried. "I have it!"

And he had; hence this tale.

PART I.

CHAPTER I.

In a certain fertile and well-wooded county of England there stands a high
stone wall. On a sunny day the eye of the traveller passing through this
province is gratified by the sparkle of myriads of broken bottles arranged
closely and continuously along its coping-stone. Above these shining
facets the boughs of tall trees swing in the wind and throw their shadows
across the highway. The wall at last leaves the road and follows the park
round its entire extent. Its height never varies; the broken bottles
glitter pe