uld certainly happen if he let things take their course; if it
succeeded, Mabel would at least be his. His resolution was taken in an
instant, and carried out with a strategy that gave him a miserable
surprise at finding himself so thorough a Judas. 'By the way,' he
said, 'I've just thought of something. Harold Caffyn is a friend of
mine. I know he wants to see you again, and he could tell you all you
want to hear about--about the Langtons, I've heard _him_ mention them
often enough; you see you don't even know where they are yet. I'll
wire and ask him to meet us at my rooms, shall I?'

'That's a capital idea!' cried Holroyd. 'Caffyn is sure to know; do it
at once, like a good fellow.'

'You stay here then, and look out for the train,' said Mark, as he
hurried to the telegraph office, leaving Holroyd thinking how
thoughtful and considerate his once selfish friend had become. Mark
sent the telegram, which ended, 'He knows nothing as yet. I leave him
to you.'

When he returned he found that Holroyd had secured an empty
compartment in the train which was preparing to start, and Mark got in
with a heavy apprehension of the danger of a long journey alone with
Holroyd. He tried to avoid conversation by sheltering himself behind a
local journal, while at every stoppage he prayed that a stranger might
come to his rescue. He read nothing until a paragraph, copied from a
London literary paper, caught his eye. 'We understand,' the paragraph
ran, 'that the new novel by the author of "Illusion," Mr. Cyril
Ernstone (or rather Mr. Mark Ashburn, as he has now declared himself),
will be published early in the present spring, and it is rumoured that
the second work will show a marked advance on its predecessor.' It was
merely the usual puff preliminary, though Mark took it as a
prediction, and at any other time would have glowed with anticipated
triumph. Now it only struck him with terror. Was it in Holroyd's paper
too? Suppose he asked to look at Mark's, and saw it there, and
questioned him, as of course he would! What should he say? Thinking to
avoid this as far as possible, he crumpled up the tell-tale paper and
hurled it out of window; but his act had precisely the opposite
effect, for Holroyd took it as an indication that his companion was
ready for conversation, and put down the paper he had been pretending
to read.

'Mark,' he began with a slight hesitation, and with his first words
Mark knew that the question was coming whic