Hurst," and handed it to me--"to the address,
which you will have no difficulty in finding, though I am sorry to have
to send you on a walk so out of your way. And please take this
also"--handing me a roll of coin, marked $100. "No answer is expected. Of
course, you will not give these things to any one but Mr. Hurst. That is
all." And she sunk back wearily upon her pillow, with closed eyes, as if
she had no further interest in the affair.

I know as well as if she had told me that this note was a warning to
fly, and this money the means to make flight good. I had promised to
deliver them on her simple entreaty and assurance that I should not
dishonor myself. But might I not wrong society? Might not she be herself
deceived about Hurst? The assertion of Quivey that he had collected
money from her employers the day before occurred to me. Did she know it
or not? I questioned, while regarding the thin, pale, weary face on the
pillow before me. While I hesitated she opened her eyes with a
wondering, impatient gaze.

"Do you repent?" she asked.

"I deliberate, rather," I replied. "I chanced to learn yesterday, that
Mr. Hurst had drawn money from Craycroft & Co., and was thinking that if
you knew it, you might not wish to send this also."

For an instant her black eyes blazed with anger, but whether at me or at
Mr. Hurst I could not tell, and she seemed to hesitate, as I had done.

"Yes, take it," she said, with hopeless sadness in her tone, "He may
need it; and for myself, what does it matter now?"

"I shall do as you bid me," I replied, "but it is under protest; for it
is my impression that you are doing yourself an injury, and Mr. Hurst no
good."

"You don't understand," she returned, sharply. "Now go, please."

"Very well; I am gone. But I promise you that if you exact services of
me, I shall insist on your taking care of your health, by way of return.
You are in a fever at this moment, which I warn you will be serious if
not checked. Here comes the doctor. Good-morning."

I pass over the trifling incidents of my visit to the residence of Mr.
Hurst. Suffice to say that Mr. Hurst had departed to parts unknown, and
that I had to carry about all day Miss Jorgensen's letter and money. On
returning home to dinner that afternoon, I found a stranger occupying
Miss Jorgensen's place at table. He was a shrewd-looking man of about
forty years, talkative, versatile, and what you might call "jolly."
Nothing escaped his obse