down thorough-bred in a hansom cab.

"It is a quiet spot," remarked Raymond Deyncourt, for he it was,
standing in the door-way, his watchful eyes scanning the deserted
court-yard and strip of green. "A retired and peaceful spot. I'm sorry
if my cough annoyed you, coming when it did, but I thought you seemed
before to be engaged in conversation which I felt a certain diffidence
in interrupting."

"So you listened, I suppose?"

"Yes, I listened. I did not hear as much as I could have wished, but it
was your best manner, Danvers. You certainly have a gift, though you
dropped your voice unnecessarily once or twice, I thought. If I had had
your talents, I should not be here now. Eh? Dear me! you can swear
still, can you? How refreshing. I fancied you had quite reformed."

"Why are you here now?" asked Charles, sternly.

Raymond shrugged his shoulders.

"Why are you here?" continued Charles, bitterly, "when you swore to me
in July that if I would pay your passage out again to America you would
let her alone in future? Why are you here, when I wrote to tell you that
she had promised me she would never give you money again without advice?
But I might have known you could break a promise as easily as make one.
I might have known you would only keep it as long as it suited
yourself."

"Well, now, I'm glad to hear you say that," said Raymond, airily,
"because it takes off any feeling of surprise I was afraid you might
feel at seeing me back here. There's nothing like a good understanding
between friends. I'm precious hard up, I can tell you, or I should not
have come; and when a fellow has got into as tight a place as I have he
has got to think of other things besides keeping promises. Have you seen
to-day's papers?" with sudden eagerness.

"Yes."

"Any news about the 'Frisco forgery case?" and Raymond leaned forward
through the door, and spoke in a whisper.

"Nothing much," said Charles, trying to recollect. "Nothing new to-day,
I think. You know they got one of them two days ago, followed him down
to Birmingham, and took him in the train."

Raymond drew in his breath.

"I don't hold with trains," he said, after a pause; "at least, not with
passengers. I told him as much at the time. And the--the other
one--Stephens? Any news of him?"

"Nothing more about him, as far as I can remember. They were both traced
together from Boston to London, but there they parted company. Stephens
is at large still."

"Is he?" sai