dly round as if for some weapon to defend himself, but shook
his head sadly, and, with a weary smile, came away from his place of
defence.

"Your trick has succeeded, sir," he said quietly. "Seventy-two! Has
the time come? I ought not to fear it now."

Stratton uttered a harsh sound--half-gasp, half-cry.

"Well," continued Brettison, who looked singularly aged and bent since
they had last stood face to face, "you have found me at last."

Stratton's lips parted, but no sound came; his emotion was too great.

"It will be an easy task," said Brettison, with a piteous look at
Stratton. "No sounds are heard outside these chambers--not even pistol
shots."

There was an intense bitterness in those last words which made the young
man shrink, and as Brettison went on, "I shall not struggle against my
fate," he uttered a cry of bitterness and rage.

"Sit down!" he said fiercely. "Why do you taunt me like this? You have
been here before from time to time. Why have you hidden from me like
this?"

"I have my reasons," said Brettison slowly. "Why have you come?"

"You ask me that!"

"Yes. You have hunted me for months now, till my life has been
worthless. Have you come to take it now?"

"Why should I take your life?"

"To save your own. You believe I heard or witnessed--that."

He paused before uttering the last word, and pointed to the door on his
left.

Stratton could not suppress a shudder; but, as he saw the peculiar way
in which the old man's eyes were fixed upon his, a feeling of resentment
arose within him, and his voice sounded strident and harsh when he spoke
again.

"I had no such thoughts," he said. "You know better, sir. Come, let us
understand one another. I am reckless now."

"Yes," said Brettison coldly.

"Then, if you have any fear for your life, you can call for help; that
is, for someone to be within call to protect you, for what we have to
say must be for our ears alone."

Brettison did not answer for a few moments, during which time he watched
the other narrowly.

"I am not afraid, Malcolm," he said; and he seated himself calmly in his
chair. Then, motioning to another, he waited until Stratton was seated.

"Yes," he said quietly, "I have been here from time to time to get my
letters."

"Why have you hidden yourself away?" cried Stratton fiercely.

"Ah! Why?" said Brettison, gazing at him thoughtfully from beneath his
thick, grey eyebrows. "You want a reason? Well, I