rst word. "Let's get him to Saint Malo, and then along the coast
to some secluded fishing village, till we can think out a better plan."

"Good; and when will you start?"

"At once--that is, to-night. You could be ready?"

"A man who can draw a little money is always ready," replied Brettison,
smiling. "Then I'll take him back with me in a cab, pack up some
things, and you will join us in time to catch the train which meets the
Southampton boat this evening."

"No. Leave him with me," said Stratton firmly. "Go and get your
luggage ready, and call for me with a cab at nine; that will be plenty
of time for us to catch the train."

"But--er--leave you--with him?" said Brettison hesitatingly.

Stratton laughed bitterly.

"Don't be afraid, old fellow," he said. "I shall not try to murder him
this time."

"My dear Malcolm!" cried the old man reproachfully.

"Well," said Stratton, smiling sadly; "if you did not exactly think
that, you had some hazy notions of its being unsafe to leave me with my
incubus."

"I--that is--" faltered Brettison weakly.

"There, say no more. He's safe with me. I shall not try to buy her
freedom at such a cost. You know that."

"At nine o'clock, then," said Brettison hastily. "You are sure you will
not mind being left with him?"

"Mind?" said Stratton with a smile. "Yes, I mind it, but it is our
duty, old fellow; and we are going to do that duty to the end."

He wrung his old friend's hand as he saw him off, and then, with a
complete change coming over his countenance, he carefully locked the
door, placed the inner key in his pocket, and walked steadily across to
where his unwelcome visitor lay back in his seat, with his hand still
playing furtively about the red scar behind his ear. His eyes stared in
a leaden way at the rich carpet; and, as Stratton followed them he
shuddered, and the whole scene of that terrible night came back, for the
eyes were fixed upon a stain only partly obliterated, and it was there
where his head had lain after he received the shot.

A peculiar sense of shrinking ran through Stratton as he saw himself
again passing through the struggle and dragging the man into the
bath-closet, while once more he had to fight with the feelings of dread
of detection, and recalled how he had argued with himself, upon the
necessity for hiding away the wretch whose existence had been as a
blight on Myra's young life, and who, dead, was the great bar to their
futu