spoken of
intuitions. Surely, the clergyman thought, to-night he will feel the
truth and my lie. To-night he will understand that it is useless to
wait, that the wonder-child can never come to this island, for he came
on the breast of the sea long ago. And if he does know, now, at this
moment, while the islanders are singing,

"And with the morn those angel faces smile--"

how will he regard me, who have lied to him and who have preached to
him, coward and hypocrite? For still the egoism was in Uniacke's heart.
There is no greater egoist than the good man who has sinned against his
nature. He sits down eternally to contemplate his own soul. When the
hymn was over Uniacke mechanically gave the blessing and knelt down. But
he did not pray. His mind stood quite still all the time he was on his
knees. He got up wearily, and as he made his way into the little vestry,
he fancied that he heard behind him a sound as of some one tramping in
sea-boots upon the rough church pavement. He looked round and saw the
bland face of the clerk, who wore perpetually a little smile, like that
of a successful public entertainer. That evening he wrote to Doctor
Braybrooke.

On the morrow Sir Graham began the first sketch for his picture, "_The
Procession of the Drowned to their faithful Captain_."

Three mornings later, when Uniacke came to the breakfast-table, Sir
Graham, who was down before him, handed to him a letter, the envelope of
which was half torn open.

"It was put among mine," he said in apology, "and as the handwriting
was perfectly familiar to me, I began to open it."

"Familiar?" said Uniacke, taking the letter.

"Yes. It bears an exact resemblance to Doctor Braybrooke's writing."

"Oh!" said Uniacke, laying the letter aside rather hastily.

They sat down on either side of the table.

"You don't read your letter," Sir Graham said, after two or three
minutes had passed.

"After breakfast. I don't suppose it is anything important," said the
clergyman hastily.

Sir Graham said nothing more, but drank his coffee and soon afterwards
went off to his work. Then Uniacke opened the letter.

"CAVENDISH SQUARE,
_London, Dec.--_

"DEAR SIR:

"I read your letter about my former patient, Sir Graham Hamilton,
with great interest. When he consulted me I was fully aware that he
was concealing from me s