ctrics and begin the work of destruction
here in his stateroom at once. But he feared Denning; he feared Langley.
Then his thoughts reverted to Mrs. Marteen. Where was she? Where was she
hiding? Had she made away with herself after her desperate deed? His
heart ached and yearned toward her while his senses revolted in horror
of the crime. His world was torn asunder. The awful discovery he had
made had once and for all precluded a change of plans. Sudden resistance
on his part would have been enigmatical to Denning--or he must confess
the state of affairs in the silent house he had just left. At least by
his ruse he had gained time for her, perhaps even protection.

Her letter, her frantic record of pain and misery, was in his pocket. He
found it, and feeling that even if he were observed to be absorbed in
reading, it could only appear natural in view of his mission, he propped
himself with pillows and reread the tear-blistered pages. His spirit
rebelled. No, no; the woman who had written those searing, bitter lines
of awakening could not be guilty of monstrous murder. He hated himself
that his mind had accused her. He cursed himself that by his
intervention he had perhaps thrown investigation upon the wrong scent,
while the truth, he assured himself, must exonerate her and bring the
real criminal to justice. What could have made him be such a fool? The
next instant he thanked his stars that he had been cool enough to plan
the scene. As he read the throbbing pages, tears rose to his eyes again
and again; he had to lay the letter down and compose himself. Ah, he was
wrong, always at fault. By his well-intended interference, he had
arranged Dorothy's flight, with results he trembled to foresee. And
Dorothy! What was he to tell the child? How was he to prepare her to
bear the present strain and the knowledge of what might come?

The fevered hours passed slowly. It was with a wrenching effort that he
forced his mind to concentrate on the business in hand for the coming
day. Yet, for his own honor and the sake of his people, it must be done,
and well done. Moreover, there must be no wavering on his part, nothing
to let anyone infer an unusual disturbance of mind. He must be prepared
to play shocked surprise when the tragic news reached him.

Utter exhaustion finally overpowered his fevered brain and he fell into
a troubled sleep, from which he was aroused by Denning's voice. The car
was not in motion, and he divined that it