ly, 'I--I'd rather you didn't mention that I had written--I
mean, that you didn't say anything about "Illusion," you know.'

Caffyn's face remained unchanged. 'Certainly, if you wish it,' he
said; 'but why? Is this more of your modesty?'

'No,' said Mark, weakly, 'no; not exactly modesty; but, the fact is, I
find that Holroyd has been going in for the same sort of thing
himself, and--and not successfully; and so I shouldn't like to----'

'Quite so,' agreed Caffyn. 'Now, really, that's very nice and
considerate of you to think of that, Ashburn. I like to see that sort
of thing in a fellow, you know; shows he isn't spoilt by success!
Well, you can rely on me--I won't breathe a word to suggest your being
in any way connected with pen and ink.'

'Thanks,' said Mark, gratefully; 'I know you won't,' and they went
down.

Mark could not but feel degraded in his own eyes by all this
hypocrisy; but it was so necessary, and was answering its purpose so
well, that his mental suffering was less than might have been
expected.

At dinner he felt himself able, now that his fears were removed, to
encourage conversation, and drew from Holroyd particulars of his
Ceylon life, which supplied them with topics for that evening, and
prevented the meal from becoming absolutely dull, even though it was
at no time remarkable for festivity.

'I tell you what I can't quite understand,' said Caffyn on one
occasion. 'Why did you let us all go on believing that you were
drowned on the "Mangalore" when a letter or two would have put it all
right?'

'I did write one letter home,' said Holroyd, with a faint red tingeing
his brown cheeks. 'I might have written to Mark, I know; but I waited
to hear from him first, and then one thing after another prevented me.
It was only when I sent down to Colombo, months afterwards, for my
heavy baggage, that I heard what had happened to the ship.'

'Well,' observed Caffyn, 'you might have written then.'

'I know that,' said Holroyd: 'the fact is, though, that I never
thought it possible, after going off the ship, as I did at Bombay,
that I could be reported amongst the missing. As soon as I discovered
that that was so, I wrote. No doubt I ought to have written before;
still, when you have a large estate on your hands, and you feel your
health gradually going, and failure coming closer and closer, you
don't feel a strong inclination for correspondence.'

He fell back into a moody silence again. Perhaps, af