Mrs. Rowe!" I cried.

She had not the power left to scream; and her head fell heavily upon the
pillow of the dying man.

"Enough, enough!" the clergyman said with authority--closing the door of
the chamber wherein Herbert Daker, the "Mr. Charles" of the Rue
Millevoye, lay dead!

CHAPTER XIV.

THE CASTAWAY.

Cosmo Bertram was at a very low ebb. No horse. Had moved off to
Batignolles. Had not been asked to the Embassy for a twelvemonth. When
he ventured into the Tuileries gardens in the afternoon, it somehow
happened that the backs of the ladies' chairs were mostly turned towards
him. He was still dapper in appearance; but a close observer could see a
difference. Management was perceptible in his dress. He had no watch;
but the diamond remained on his finger--for the present; and yet society
had nothing seriously compromising to say against him. It was rumoured
that he had seen the interior of Clichy twice. So had Sir Ronald, who
was now the darling of the Faubourg; but then, note the difference. Sir
Ronald had re-issued with plenty of money--or credit, which to society
is the same thing; while poor Bertram had stolen down the hill by back
streets to Batignolles, where he had found a cheap nest, and whence he
trudged to his old haunts with a foolish notion that people would
believe his story about a flying visit to England, and accept his
translation to Batignolles as a sanitary precaution strongly recommended
by his physician. If society be not yet civilized enough to imitate the
savages, who kill the old members of the community, it has studied the
philosophy of the storks in Jutland, who get rid of their ailing, feeble
brother storks, at the fall of the year. Bertram was a bird to be pecked
to pieces, and driven away from the prosperous community, being no
longer prosperous.

First among the sharp peckers was Miss Tayleure, who always had her
suspicions of Captain Bertram, although she was too good-natured to say
anything. The seasons had circled three or four times since she had had
the honour of being introduced to the gentleman, and yet the lady was
waiting to see what the improved facilities for travel might bring her
in the matrimonial line. She had, her dearest friends said, almost made
up her mind to marry into commerce.

"Poor Tayleure!" one of the attaches said, at the Cafe Anglais, over his
Marennes oysters, after the opera; "doomed to pig-iron, I'm afraid. Must
do it. Can't carry on much lon