ave
you a rich coffee planter, or a Deputy Judge Advocate, in no time.
_Any_ fellow has a chance out there. And you'll soon make friends in a
place like that.'

'I like my friends ready-made, I think,' said Holroyd; 'but one must
make the best of it, I suppose.'

They had come to the end of the Row; the gates of Kensington Gardens
were locked, and behind the bars a policeman was watching them
suspiciously, as if he suspected they might attempt a forcible entry.

'Well,' said Mark, stopping, 'I suppose you turn off here?' Holroyd
would have been willing to go on with him as far as Kensington had
Mark proposed it, but he gave no sign of desiring this, so his
friend's pride kept him silent too.

'One word more about the--the book,' he said. 'I may put your name and
address on the title-page, then? It goes off to Chilton and Fladgate
to-night.'

'Oh yes, of course,' said Mark, 'put whatever you like.'

'I've not given them my real name, and, if anything comes of it, I
should like that kept a secret.'

'Just as you please; but why?'

'If I keep on at the Bar, a novel, whether it's a success or not, is
not the best bait for briefs,' said Holroyd; 'and besides, if I am to
get a slating, I'd rather have it under an _alias_, don't you see? So
the only name on the title-page is "Vincent Beauchamp."'

'Very well,' said Mark, 'none shall know till you choose to tell them,
and, if anything has to be done about the book, I'll see to it with
pleasure, and write to you when it's settled. So you can make your
mind easy about _that_.'

'Thanks,' said Holroyd; 'and now, good-bye, Mark.'

There was real feeling in his voice, and Mark himself caught something
of it as he took the hand Vincent held out.

'Good-bye, old boy,' he said. 'Take care of yourself--pleasant voyage
and good luck. You're no letter-writer, I know, but you'll drop me a
line now and then, I hope. What's the name of the ship you go out in?'

'The "Mangalore." She leaves the Docks to-morrow. Good-bye for the
present, Mark. We shall see one another again, I hope. Don't forget
all about me before that.'

'No, no,' said Mark; 'we've been friends too long for that.'

One more good-bye, a momentary English awkwardness in getting away
from one another, and they parted, Holroyd walking towards Bayswater
across the bridge, and Mark making for Queen's Gate and Kensington.

Mark looked after his friend's tall strong figure for a moment before
it disappeared in t