ing by work so much to my taste."

Juve cut his thanks short, and held out some bank-notes.

"There's some money; now clear out; it's high time we both got a little
sleep. Get busy settling into rooms, and in a fortnight I shall expect
you to be editor of _La Capitale_."

"Under what name shall you introduce me to your friend?" Charles Rambert
asked, after a little nervous pause.

"H'm!" said Juve with a smile: "it will have to be an alias of course."

"Yes; and as it will be the name I shall write under it ought to be an
easy one to remember."

"Something arresting, like Fantomas!" said Juve chaffingly, amused by
the curious childishness of this lad, who could take keen interest in
such a trifle when he was in so critical a situation. "Choose something
not too common for the first name; and something short for the other.
Why not keep the first syllable of Fantomas? Oh, I've got it--Fandor;
what about Jerome Fandor?"

Charles Rambert murmured it over.

"Jerome Fandor! Yes, you are right, it sounds well."

Juve pushed him out of the door.

"Well, Jerome Fandor, leave me to my slumbers, and go and rig yourself
out, and get ready for the new life that I'm going to open up for you!"

Bewildered by the amazing adventures of which he had just been the
central figure, Charles Rambert, or Jerome Fandor, walked down Juve's
staircase wondering. "Why should he take so much trouble about me? What
interest or what motive can he have? And how on earth does he find out
such a wonderful lot of things?"

XX. A CUP OF TEA

After the tragic death of her husband, Lady Beltham--whose previous life
had inclined to the austere--withdrew into almost complete retirement.
The world of gaiety and fashion knew her no more. But in the world where
poverty and suffering reign, in hospital wards and squalid streets, a
tall and beautiful woman might often be seen, robed all in black, with
distinguished bearing and eyes serene and grave, distributing alms and
consolation as she moved. It was Lady Beltham, kind, good and very
pitiful, bent on the work of charity to which she had vowed her days.

Yet she had not allowed herself to be crushed by sorrow; after the
tragedy which left her a widow, she had assumed the effective control of
her husband's property, and, helped by faithful friends, had carried on
his interests and administered his estates, spreading a halo of kindness
all around her.

To help her in the heavy corresponden