id Chinston, thoughtfully, as they stood and watched
the cab drive off, "do you know what the end of that man will be?"

"It requires no prophet to foretell that," said Calton, dryly. "He will
be hanged."

"No, he won't," retorted the doctor. "He will commit suicide."

CHAPTER XXXV.

"THE LOVE THAT LIVES."

There are certain periods in the life of man when Fate seems to have
done her worst, and any further misfortunes which may befall are
accepted with a philosophical resignation, begotten by the very
severity of previous trials. Fitzgerald was in this state of mind--he
was calm, but it was the calmness of despair--the misfortunes of the
past year seemed to have come to a climax, and he looked forward to the
publication of the whole bitter story with an indifference that
surprised himself His own name, and that of Madge and her dead father,
would be on every tongue, yet he felt perfectly callous to whatever
might be said on the subject. So long as Madge recovered, and they
could go away to another part of the world, leaving Australia, with its
bitter memories behind--he did not care. Moreland would suffer the
bitter penalty of his crime, and then nothing more would ever be heard
of the matter. It would be better for the whole story to be told, and
transitory pain endured, than to go on striving to hide the infamy and
shame which might be discovered at any moment. Already the news was all
over Melbourne that the murderer of Oliver Whyte had been captured, and
that his confession would bring to light certain startling facts
concerning the late Mark Frettlby. Brian well knew that the world
winked at secret vices so long as there was an attempt at concealment,
though it was cruelly severe on those which were brought to light, and
that many whose lives might be secretly far more culpable than poor
Mark Frettlby's, would be the first to slander the dead man. The public
curiosity, however, was destined never to be gratified, for the next
day it was known that Roger Moreland had hanged himself in his cell
during the night, and had left no confession behind him.

When Brian heard this, he breathed a heartfelt prayer of thanks for his
deliverance, and went to see Calton, whom he found at his chambers, in
deep conversation with Chinston and Kilsip. They all came to the
conclusion that as Moreland was now dead, nothing could be gained by
publishing the confession of Mark Frettlby, so agreed to burn it, and
when Fitzg