t a man to
break your promise."

Here was a predicament! Asked to pledge my word for I knew not what! To
be in the dark in more senses than one; for I could not even see my
mysterious deliverer's face to judge what manner of man he was. And yet,
how could I refuse his request? At last I said, slowly:--

"If what you ask is honest and above-board, you have my word that it
shall be done, no matter what it may cost me."

He gave a short laugh. "You are cautious," he said, "but you are right.
No, there is nothing dishonest about my request; it will wrong no one,
though it may cause you some personal inconvenience."

"That is enough," I said, hastily, ashamed of the half-hearted way in
which I had given my promise. "The instant we are out of this place I
will take steps to grant your request, whatever it may be."

"But that won't do," he put in, quickly; "what I want must be done here
and now!"

I was bewildered, as well I might be, and remained silent while he went
on:--

"There is no need to say much about myself, but this you must know. I am
in great trouble. I am accused of that which makes me amenable to the
law. I am innocent, but I cannot prove my innocence, and my only chance
of safety is in flight. That is the reason of my being here: I am hiding
from my pursuers."

The poor creature paused, with a deep-drawn sigh, as if he at least had
not found his life worth the struggle. I was greatly shocked by his
story, and warmly expressed my sympathy; then, on his telling me he had
been for two days and nights in the tunnel with scarcely a bit of food,
I remembered a packet of sandwiches that had been provided for my
journey, and offered them to him. It made me shudder to hear the
ravenous manner in which they were consumed. When this was done there
was another silence, broken by his saying, with evident hesitation, that
the one hope he had was in disguising himself in some way, and thus
eluding those who were watching for him. He concluded with:--

"The favour I have to ask is that you will help me in this by allowing
me to have your clothes in exchange for mine!"

There was such an odd mixture of tragedy and comedy in the whole thing
that for a moment I hardly knew how to answer him. The poor fellow must
have taken my silence for anything but consent, for he said, bitterly:--

"You object! I felt you would, and it is my only chance!"

"On the contrary," I returned, "I am perfectly willing to do as you
wish-