looked ten years
older than he did before the murder of Whyte. It is trouble which draws
lines on the smooth forehead and furrows round the mouth. If a man has
any mental worry, his life becomes a positive agony to him. Mental
tortures are quite as bad as physical ones, if not worse. The last
thing before dropping off to sleep is the thought of trouble, and with
the first faint light of dawn, it returns and hammers all day at the
weary brain. But while a man can sleep, life is rendered at least
endurable; and of all the blessings which Providence has bestowed,
there is none so precious as that same sleep, which, as wise Sancho
Panza says, "Wraps every man like a cloak." Brian felt the need of
rest, so sending a telegram to Calton to call on him in the morning,
and another to Madge, that he would be down to luncheon next day, he
stayed indoors all day, and amused himself with smoking and reading. He
went to bed early, and succeeded in having a sound sleep, so when he
awoke next morning, he felt considerably refreshed and invigorated.

He was having his breakfast at half-past eight, when he heard the sound
of wheels, and immediately afterwards a ring at the bell. He went to
the window, and saw Calton's trap was at the door. The owner was
shortly afterwards shown into the room.

"Well, you are a nice fellow," cried Calton, after greetings were over.
"Here I've been waiting for you with all the patience of Job, thinking
you were still up country."

"Will you have some breakfast?" asked Brian, laughing at his
indignation.

"What have you got?" said Calton, looking over the table. "Ham and
eggs. Humph! Your landlady's culinary ideas are very limited."

"Most landladies' ideas are," retorted Fitzgerald, resuming his
breakfast. "Unless Heaven invents some new animal, lodgers will go on
getting beef and mutton, alternated with hash, until the end of the
world."

"When one is in Rome, one musn't speak ill of the Pope," answered
Calton, with a grimace. "Do you think your landlady could supply me
with brandy and soda?"

"I think so," answered Fitzgerald, rising, and ringing the bell; "but
isn't it rather early for that sort of thing?"

"There's a proverb about glass houses," said Calton, severely, "which
applies to you in this particular instance."

Whereupon Fitzgerald laughed, and Calton having been supplied with what
he required, prepared to talk business.

"I need hardly tell you how anxious I am to hear what you'v