he truth in defiance of you, and would be heedless
of her own danger."

Flockart drew a long breath. What this man said was, he knew within his
own heart, only too true of the girl towards whom they had been so cruel
and so unscrupulous. His had been a lifelong scheme, and as part of his
scheme in conjunction with the woman who was Sir Henry's wife, it had
been unfortunately compulsory to sacrifice the girl who was the blind
man's right hand.

Yes, Gabrielle was deeply in love with Walter Murie--the man upon whom
Sir Henry now looked as his enemy, and who would have exposed him to the
Greek Government if the blind man had not been too clever. The Baronet,
after his daughter's confession, naturally attributed her curiosity to
Walter's initiative, the more especially that Walter had been in Paris,
and, it was believed, in Athens also.

The pair were, however, now separated. Krail, in pursuit of his diligent
inquiries, had actually been in Woodnewton, and seen the lonely little
figure, sad and dejected, taking long rambles accompanied only by a
farmer's sheep-dog. Young Murie had not been there; nor did the pair now
correspond. This much Krail had himself discovered.

The problem placed before Flockart by his shabby friend was a somewhat
disconcerting one. On the one hand, Lady Heyburn had urged him to leave
the Riviera, without giving him any reason, and on the other, he had the
ever-present danger of Gabrielle, in a sudden fit of sentimental
self-sacrifice, "giving him away." If she did, what then? The mere
suggestion caused him to bite his nether lip.

Krail knew a good deal, but he did not know all. Perhaps it was as well
that he did not. There is a code of honour among adventurers all the
world over; but few of them can resist the practice of blackmail when
they chance to fall upon evil days.

"Yes," Flockart said reflectively, as at Krail's suggestion they turned
and began to descend the steep hill towards Ospedaletti, "perhaps it's a
pity, after all, that the girl left Glencardine. Yet surely she's safer
with her aunt?"

"She was driven from Glencardine!"

"By her father."

"You sacrificed her in order to save yourself. That was but natural.
It's a pity, however, you didn't take my advice."

"I suggested it to Lady Heyburn. But she would have nothing to do with
it. She declared that such a course was far too dangerous."

"Dangerous!" echoed the shabby man. "Surely it could not have placed
either of you