ng at his dead face!"

"That boy!" cried George Brudenell, horrified.

"That boy," she assented.

There was a pause, during which the Doctor rose and drew back from the
tall, splendidly-poised figure, as firm and erect as he had ever seen
it. He did not realize yet the blow that had fallen upon him, the blank
in his life that would come later; but he felt as though he were
struggling in a sea of horror, and was unable to disguise his shrinking
from her, his avoidance of her, the woman to whom yesterday he had
offered his love humbly, and whom he had besought to be his wife. He
asked coldly, not looking at her:

"What can I do?"

"Sir, I have told you--save me. We were seen last night, the clue was
followed up, and we were surprised an hour ago in our most secret
meeting-place. Three of us were taken--all would have been but for the
darkness, and that we knew so well each winding of the place. Where the
others are I do not know. Sir, help me! I am penniless, your
police--blood-hounds!--are on my track. Every moment that I stay here
makes the danger greater. To-day I am a creature you hate, scorn,
shrink from; but yesterday I was the woman you loved--help me, then! I
am young to die--I saved you! Answer, will you save me?"

"I will help you," said George Brudenell, quietly.

* * * * *

Time has effaced many things from Doctor Brudenell's memory, but it can
never blot out his mental picture of that night--the drive through the
silent street to the distant railway-station, from which a train could
be taken to carry them to the sea, the waiting through the dragging
hours until the tardy dawn broke, the fear, the stealth, the suspicion,
the watching, the rapid flight through the early morning, that ended
only when the blue water--so cruelly bright, untroubled, and tranquil
it looked!--was audible and visible. Not a word had he spoken to his
companion through the night, nor did either of them break silence until
they stood upon the deck of the vessel which was to bear her to the New
World which has rectified so many of the mistakes of the Old.

The deck was being cleared of those who were to return to the shore,
when, for the last time, she turned her beautiful eyes upon his face.

"Farewell, Monsieur," she said, quietly; and he echoed:

"Farewell, Mademoiselle."

* * * * *

Good Mrs. Jessop never discovered which patien