y louder than usual. What are you looking like that for? Hang me if
I don't think there's something in this I ought to see to!' he broke
out, with a sudden change of face, as his shrewd little eyes fell on
Holroyd's rug, which Mark was carrying for the moment. 'Mark, for all
your cleverness, you're a slippery feller--I always felt that about
you. You're up to something now--you're meaning to play a trick on one
that trusts you, and I won't have it--do you hear me?--I tell you I
won't have it!'

'What do you mean?' faltered Mark. For the instant he thought himself
detected, and did not pause to think how improbable this was.

'_You_ know what I mean. I'm not going to stand by and see you ruin
yourself. You shan't set a foot in the train if I have to knock you
down and set on you myself! If' (and his voice shook here)--'if you've
got into any mess--and it's money--I'll clear you this time, whatever
it costs me, but you shan't run away from that dear girl that you're
promised to--I'm d----d if you do!'

Mark laughed naturally and easily enough.

'Did you think I was going to run away then--from _Mabel_?'

'You tell me what you're doing 'ere at this time o' day, then,' said
his uncle, only partially reassured. 'What's that you're carrying?'

'This? My friend's rug. I'm seeing a friend off--that's all. If you do
not believe me, I'll show you the friend.' As he looked back at the
bookstall he saw something which stiffened him once more with helpless
horror: the man at the stall was trying to persuade Holroyd to buy a
book for the journey--he was just dusting one now, a volume in a
greenish cover with bold crimson lettering, before recommending it;
and the book was a copy of the latest edition of 'Illusion,' the
edition which bore Mark's name on the title-page! In his despair Mark
did the very last thing he would otherwise have done--he rushed up to
Holroyd and caught his arm. 'I say, old fellow, don't let them talk
you into buying any of that rubbish. Look here, I--I want to introduce
you to my uncle!'

'I wasn't asking the gentleman to buy no rubbish,' said the man at the
bookstall, resenting the imputation. 'This is a book which is 'aving a
large sale just now: we've sold as many as'--but here Mark succeeded
in getting Vincent away and bringing him up to Mr. Lightowler.

'How are you, sir?' began that gentleman, with a touch of
condescension in his manner. 'So it's only you that's goin' off? Well,
that's a relief t