n truth--he told how, being left to the guardianship of
his elder brother--Sir Hugo was fifteen years the elder--he had yet
seen little of him, Sir Hugo being seldom at home for long.

'Sir Hugo's mother, the first Lady Rae, died when he was a lad, and
there were no other children by that marriage,' he said. 'My mother
inherited consumption, and three sisters, all my elders, died in
childhood. My mother died when I was a babe, and I was given to the
care of Lady Lossing, my mother's elder and favourite sister. I grew
to manhood in her house at Dulnith Hall, or in London. When Sir Hugo
took possession at last he developed a tyrannical temper. He did not
choose to marry, and so I must do so. He selected a wife for me, an
heiress, of course, and not too young nor pretty, though an English
gentlewoman, and a fit wife for a king, if he loved her, which I did
not.

'Well, we quarrelled bitterly. I threatened to come to America, and he
bade me go and never to return while he lived. Now, my father had left
me nothing, only commending me to Sir Hugo's generosity, which, so
long as I consulted his wishes, was free enough. Of my own I had a few
hundred pounds left me by my mother. I took that and came to this
country. I was introduced into society by a fellow-countryman, who
thought my change of name a mere lark, and who soon went home, and
then straightway I fell in love with June Jenrys.'

'Well,' I said, after signalling one of the gondoliers to row us to
shore, 'I have showed you the way out; have I earned my reward, Sir
Carroll Rae?'

With a swift movement he caught my hand between both his own.

'Best of friends,' he exclaimed, 'you can never ask of me a favour
that I will not grant, if given the ability to do so; and now----'

'And now,' I echoed as our boat came to the landing, 'there is yet
time for you to make that delayed call upon the ladies.'

CHAPTER XXXII.

FOUND DEAD.

On the morning of the second day after the publication of the letter
signed E. Roe, I awoke at an early hour, after a night passed, for the
most part, in thinking and planning.

As the small hours began once more to grow long, and I had reached at
last some definite conclusions, I had fallen asleep, but not for long.
Sunrise found me awake and astir.

Dave had been out all night, and I was eager for his return. I wanted
his co-operation and his encouragement. I wanted to tell him my plans
and to hear the result of his night's re