d what was happening and to suffer from his perception of the
hideous predicament that he was in. Another train, on another of the
four tracks, was racing after this train, was overhauling it, was
infallibly catching it. Mysteriously he could see into this following,
hunting train--it was a train full of policemen, magistrates, wardens,
judges, hangmen: all the offended majesty of the law.

He woke shivering, after this first taste of a murderer's dreams. His
punishment had begun.

It was daylight at Waterloo, and he slunk in terror; but things had to
be done. He washed himself as well as he could, took off his dirty
canvas, got his bag from the cloak-room and hurried away. No questions
were asked, no bones made about giving him a room at a house in
Stamford Street; and he at once went to bed and slept profoundly.

When he woke this time he was quite calm, and able to think clearly
again.

He went out late in the afternoon, and saw a message for him on
newspaper bills: "Fatal Accident to ex-Cabinet Minister." Then, having
bought a paper, he read the very brief report of the accident. He
stood gasping, and then drew deep breaths. The _Accident_. Oh, the joy
of seeing that word! No suspicion so far. It was working out just as
one might hope.

And it seemed that his courage, so lamentably shaken, began to return
to him. He felt more himself. He marched off to a post office, and
sent his telegram to Mavis: "Evening paper says fatal accident to Mr.
Barradine. Is this true?" The main purpose of the telegram was to
prove that here he was in London, where he had been last Friday, and
where he had remained during all the intervening time; its secondary
purpose was to put on record at the earliest possible moment his
surprise--surprise so complete that he could scarcely believe the sad
news. He gave his utmost care to the wording of the telegram and was
satisfied with the result. The turn of words seemed perfectly natural.

Then, having despatched his telegram, he hurried off to call at Mr.
Barradine's house in Grosvenor Place--to make some anxious inquiries.

There were people at the door, ladies and gentlemen among them, and
the servants looked white and agitated as they answered questions.
Dale pushed his way up the steps almost into the hall, acting
consternation and grief--the honest, rather rough country fellow, the
loyal dependent who forgets his good manners in his sorrow at the
death of the chieftain. He would no