ie, the stranger stood motionless on the Embankment. The
racket of the city was behind him. At his feet lay a drowned world,
its lights choking in the Thames. It was London, as it will be on the
last day.

With an effort he roused himself and took Andrew's arm.

"The body will soon be recovered," he said, in a voice of great
dejection, "and people will talk. Let us go."

They retraced their steps up Arundel Street.

"Now," said Andrew's companion, "tell me who you are."

Andrew would have preferred to hear who the stranger was. In the
circumstances he felt that he had almost a right to know. But this was
not a man to brook interference.

"If you will answer me one question," the young Scotchman said humbly,
"I shall tell you everything."

His reveries had made Andrew quick-witted, and he had the judicial mind
which prevents one's judging another rashly. Besides, his hankering
after this man had already suggested an exculpation for him.

"You are a Radical?" he asked eagerly.

The stranger's brows contracted. "Young man," he said, "though all the
Radicals, and Liberals, and Conservatives who ever addressed the House
of Commons were in ----, I would not stoop to pick them up, though I
could gather them by the gross."

He said this without an Irish accent, and Andrew felt that he had
better begin his story at once.

He told everything.

As his tale neared its conclusion his companion scanned him narrowly.

If the stranger's magnanimous countenance did not beam down in sympathy
upon the speaker, it was because surprise and gratification filled it.

Only once an ugly look came into his eyes. That was when Andrew had
reached the middle of his second testimonial.

The young man saw the look, and at the same time felt the hold on his
arm become a grip.

His heart came into his mouth. He gulped it down, and, with what was
perhaps a judicious sacrifice, jumped the remainder of his testimonials.

When the stranger heard how he had been tracked through the streets, he
put his head to the side to think.

It was a remarkable compliment to his abstraction that Andrew paused
involuntarily in his story and waited.

He felt that his future was in the balance. Those sons of peers may
faintly realise his position whose parents have hesitated whether to
make statesmen or cattle-dealers of them.

"I don't mind telling you," the stranger said at last, "that your case
has been under consideration. When we l