pay them for what they've done."

The physician made no reply. He seemed indeed to be wholly absorbed in
meditation. But he aroused with a start from his reverie at the girl's
next question.

"Doctor, you know a woman's inquisitiveness! Last night you bade me be
patient, and said that after a while you would tell me the whole story
of this unfortunate affair. Now, I simply must ask you just one
question. Will you answer it?"

"I'll try, Miss Marion," was the answer, given with an air as nonchalant
as he could assume.

"Where are the villains who took part in this affair? Did they go down
with _The Isabel_, or did they escape, and are they still at large?"

Garnet looked the girl straight in the eye as he replied in a tone of
the utmost sincerity.

"The arch-conspirator escaped. He is probably being hunted by the best
detectives in the country. He is sure to be captured eventually, dead or
alive."

"Thank you, Doctor," Ethel said gratefully. "And in proof of my thanks,
I won't trouble you any more on this subject, which seems to worry and
annoy you. Of course, I don't know what dreadful things you were obliged
to go through with in order to save yourself and me from harm. Really,
I'm not surprised that you don't wish to talk about it. But I do hope
they catch the guilty man and punish him as he deserves--hang him,
perhaps."

The physician winced at the innocent remark, and vouchsafed no reply.

The launch sped on and on. The wind increased in some degree during
mid-forenoon, as is usual in southern waters at this season of the year.
But the little craft was staunchly built, and by taking advantage of the
headlands she made fairly good progress.

Garnet was beginning to suffer again from lack of the drug. Ethel had
not as yet seen him use the hypodermic needle, nor did he care to have
her. But by rapid stages his desire reached such a point that he must
either have the relief of morphia or go mad. Then his cunning brain
suggested that it would be easy enough to deceive this guileless girl.
So he boldly told her that he was in a highly nervous state and
suffering as well from a splitting headache, and that, therefore, he
deemed it advisable to take a small injection of morphia, which would
undoubtedly relieve him.

Ethel had not the faintest idea that this learned man, of such eminence
in his profession, was, in fact, a drug fiend. She had no suspicion of
the truth even when she saw the point of the hypodermi