was watching
some one--a shabby, wan figure leaning over the palisading which
bordered the terrace below. His own heart gave a throb. He knew at
once who it was.

"David!" he exclaimed.

Drexley turned upon him sharply.

"You know him?"

Douglas nodded.

"Yes," he said. "It is David Strong. He is mad."

"You know that it was he--"

"Yes." Drexley drew a long breath.

"Look at him," he said, softly. "To-night he is safe--quite harmless.
Some one has been giving him money. He is quite drunk. Thank God!"

Douglas stared at him--surprised.

"Drunk," Drexley explained, quietly, "he is safe. He will curl down in
some odd corner somewhere soon and sleep till morning. There are other
times when I have followed him about for hours, when I have seen the
knife bulge in his pocket, and known that murder was in his heart. I
have dogged him about the streets then till daylight--from her house to
theatre steps, to concert rooms, restaurants, and private houses.
Anywhere, where he imagined that she might be. I have seen him loiter
about the pavements for hours, when the canvas archway and awning has
been put out from one of the great West-end houses, just in the hope
that she might be amongst the guests. So far he has been unlucky, but
some day I feel that for all my watching they will meet, and then may
God help her! You have influence over her, Jesson. I wish you would
persuade her to have him put under restraint. She could identify him
quite well as the man who shot at her on the terrace of her house, and
so could you. Or if she will not do this, she might keep away from
England for a few more months."

"Influence over her," Douglas repeated, with a sudden bitterness in his
tone. "I have so much, that although I was with her on that terrible
evening, and have written to her time after time, I have never had a
line from her since she left England."

Drexley laughed oddly.

"You, too," he exclaimed. "Your day is over then. Well, it was a short
and a merry one. You bear it well, my young friend."

Douglas shrugged his shoulders, but avoided Drexley's earnest gaze.

"Emily de Reuss was very kind to me," he said, "but she is not the only
woman in the world." "For those who have known her," Drexley said, "none
can come after."

"Then I must be one of those who have never known her," Douglas
answered, with a lightness which sounded natural enough, "for I am going
to take the most charming little girl in London to the