to Hawke."

"The factor is a gentleman born," said I, "but he is past fifty. And
think of the life! It is a sad pity for the girl."

"She knows what is before her," replied the captain, "and she seems to
be resigned. To tell the truth, though, I half-believe there is
something at the back of it all--that some deeper cause drove her out
here. Nothing to her discredit, I mean."

"What makes you think so?" I asked.

"A chance remark that she let fall," he answered.

I would have questioned Captain Rudstone more closely, but just then he
drained his glass and rose with an air of sudden determination.

"I have work to do," he said gravely, as he put on his hat. "I must keep
track of Cuthbert Mackenzie. Miss Hatherton knew nothing of his real
character, and I am satisfied that he knew as little of her while they
were at sea. But what he may have learned since landing is a different
matter. I will come back here this evening, and meanwhile I would advise
you to remain in the hotel. There is a ship sailing for the Bay in a
week as you probably know, and I shall be heartily glad when we are at
sea. Cuthbert Mackenzie is a serpent that stings in the dark."

He bade me good morning and was gone.

CHAPTER V.

THE ALARM IN THE NIGHT.

It was about eleven o'clock of the forenoon when Captain Rudstone
departed. I smoked a quiet pipe, and then sought out Baptiste; he had a
little box of a room over the hotel kitchen. I found the rascal but
half-sobered, so heavily had he liquored on the previous night, and I
angrily bade him stay in bed for the rest of the day. Miss Hatherton did
not come down to dinner, and I had for company in the coffee room Mr.
Christopher Burley; there were no other guests in the house at the time.

Neither of us was in a talkative mood, and very brief speech passed
between us. But shortly after the meal I met him again at the bar, where
he was paying his account. He looked ready for a journey, having his hat
on and a portmanteau in his hand.

"You are leaving, sir?" I asked politely.

"I return to Montreal to-day," he replied, "and later I go West. You, I
believe, are bound shortly for the North?"

I nodded assent.

"We may meet in the future," he went on; "and meanwhile I trust you will
remember that name--Osmund Maiden."

"I will bear it in mind," I promised, "and I wish you every success in
your errand."

With that we parted, t