kets and took a turn or two up
and down the room. His brows were knitted and his lips pursed. In the
presence of this mental stress Mr. Blundell preserved a respectful
silence.

"We'll all four go for a walk on the quay on Sunday afternoon," said Mr.
Turnbull, at last.

"On the chance?" inquired his staring friend.

"On the chance," assented the other; "it's just possible Daly might fall
in."

"He might if we walked up and down five million times," said Blundell,
unpleasantly.

"He might if we walked up and down three or four times," said Mr.
Turnbull, "especially if you happened to stumble."

"I never stumble," said the matter-of-fact Mr. Blundell. "I don't know
anybody more sure-footed than I am."

"Or thick-headed," added the exasperated Mr. Turnbull.

Mr. Blundell regarded him patiently; he had a strong suspicion that his
friend had been drinking.

"Stumbling," said Mr. Turnbull, conquering his annoyance with an effort
"stumbling is a thing that might happen to anybody. You trip your foot
against a stone and lurch up against Daly; he tumbles overboard, and you
off with your jacket and dive in off the quay after him. He can't swim a
stroke."

Mr. Blundell caught his breath and gazed at him in speechless amaze.

"There's sure to be several people on the quay if it's a fine afternoon,"
continued his instructor. "You'll have half Dunchurch round you,
praising you and patting you on the back--all in front of Venia, mind
you. It'll be put in all the papers and you'll get a medal."

"And suppose we are both drowned?" said Mr. Blundell, soberly.

"Drowned? Fiddlesticks !" said Mr. Turnbull. "However, please
yourself. If you're afraid----"

"I'll do it," said Blundell, decidedly.

"And mind," said the other, "don't do it as if it's as easy as kissing
your fingers; be half-drowned yourself, or at least pretend to be. And
when you're on the quay take your time about coming round. Be longer
than Daly is; you don't want him to get all the pity."

"All right," said the other.

"After a time you can open your eyes," went on his instructor; "then, if
I were you, I should say, 'Good-bye, Venia,' and close 'em again. Work
it up affecting, and send messages to your aunts."

"It sounds all right," said Blundell.

"It is all right," said Mr. Turnbull. "That's just the bare idea I've
given you. It's for you to improve upon it. You've got two days to
think about it."

Mr. Blundell thanked him, a