gerly, and he hurried to the door of the
bath-closet, and turned the handle, but it was locked. "How tiresome!"
he muttered. "Here, I know."

He dropped quickly on one knee by his friend, and thrust a hand into his
coat pocket for his bunch of keys; when his hand came in contact with
something, which he drew out with an ejaculation, and looked up at Sir
Mark.

"A pistol!" said the latter, and they stared in each other's eyes, just
as Stratton began to show signs of recovery.

"Why has he a pistol?" whispered Miss Jerrold; and her brother's whole
manner changed.

"I was thinking that you ought to have fetched the police at once, my
lad," he said; "but it's as well you did not. There are things men like
hushed up."

"I--I--don't know what you mean," faltered Miss Jerrold, while Guest
slowly laid the weapon on the table, looking ghastly pale, and feeling a
sensation of heart-sickness and despair.

"Plain enough," said the admiral coldly. "There is something more,
though, behind. Do you know what?" he cried sternly, as he fixed Guest
with his eyes.

"On my honour, no, Sir Mark."

"It does not matter to us."

"But it does, Mark," cried Miss Jerrold piteously; "and I am confused.
What does it all mean?"

"Heaven and the man himself alone know."

"But, Mark, dear; I cannot understand."

"Not with this before you plainly stamped," said the admiral bitterly.
"Some old trouble--a lady, I suppose--men are all alike--there was an
_expose_ imminent, I expect, and he sought a way out of it--the coward's
way, and was too great a cur to take aim straight."

They all looked down in horror at Stratton, where he lay, to see that he
was now sensible to their words, and glaring wildly from face to face.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE MAN IS MAD.

Stratton rose slowly, and he was evidently confused and not quite able
to grasp all that had been going on, till a pang from his injured
shoulder spurred his brain.

His right-hand went up to the bandage, and he began hastily to arrange
his dress.

He was evidently sick and faint, but to restore his garments was for the
moment the dominant idea.

Then another thought came, and he looked wildly round, hardly appearing
to grasp the fact that friend and visitors had drawn back from him,
while the former slowly uncocked the revolver and carefully extracted
the cartridges, noting that four were filled, and two empty.

Guest knew the billet of one of the bullets, and he