is mentioned or alluded
to in them. Yet the fact of their having been found in my possession
makes them strong evidence against me."

Sir Allan nodded.

"I don't know why on earth you've come to me for advice," he remarked.
"I'm not a lawyer."

"Neither do I quite know. Still, I have come; and, as I am here, give it
me."

"In a word, then--bolt," said Sir Allan laconically.

"That is your advice, is it?"

"I don't see anything else to do. I don't ask you whether you are guilty
or not, and I do ask myself whether I am doing my duty in giving you any
advice calculated to defeat the ends of justice. I simply consider the
facts, and tell you what I should do if I were in your unfortunate
position. I should bolt."

"Thank you, Sir Allan, for your advice so far," Mr. Brown said quietly.
"There is just one little complication, however, which I wish to tell
you of."

"Yes. Might I trouble you to put the matter in as short a form as
possible, then?" Sir Allan remarked, looking at his watch. "I am dining
with the Prime Minister to-night, and it is time I commenced to dress."

"I will not detain you much longer," Mr. Brown said. "The complication,
I fear, will scarcely interest you, for it is a sentimental one. If I
fled from England to-night, I should leave behind me the woman I love."

"Then why the devil don't you take her with you?" asked Sir Allan, with
a shrug of the shoulders. "She'll go right enough if you ask her. Women
like a little mystery."

"The woman whom I love appears to be of a different class to those from
whom you have drawn your experience," Mr. Brown answered quietly. "I am
not married to her."

Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders lightly.

"Well, if she's a prude, and won't go, and you haven't pluck enough to
run away with her, I don't know how to advise you," he remarked.

Mr. Brown looked steadily into the other's face. Sir Allan met his gaze
blandly.

"Your speech, Sir Allan, betrays a cynicism which I believe is greatly
in fashion just now," Mr. Brown said slowly. "Sometimes it is altogether
assumed, sometimes it is only a thin veneer adopted in obedience to the
decree of fashion. Believing that, so far as you are concerned, the
latter is the case, I beg you to look back into your past life, and
recall, if possible, some of its emotions. Again I tell you that if I
fly from England, I shall leave behind me the woman I dearly love. I
have come to you, Sir Allan Beaumerville, with an effort