vals, I could endure without the
drug. Then, during periods of great mental strain and physical
depression from all-night vigils, I would invariably fall back upon my
old Brain Food. Occasionally, such a relapse would develop into what
might be termed a morphia spree. It was at the time of my last spree
that--to my destruction, and your discomfiture and suffering--I was
called to treat you aboard _The Isabel_."

It seemed to Ethel that Doctor Garnet wearied of his long discourse. He
now arose from his chair, and once again he began to pace the floor
uneasily. It appeared that he was debating in his mind whether or not he
should continue his narrative.

Ethel, moved to pity by the man's evident deep distress, suggested that
he should put off the further telling until morning when he would be
rested. She urged him to repose in one of the bunks until the morrow,
after which she would listen to him again. But to this he objected,
declaring that he had made up his mind to tell the whole story. Unless
she should refuse to listen, he would continue. Ethel admitted her
willingness to hear the remainder of the narrative.

"I suppose," the Doctor continued, still in that dead level of
monotonous recitation, "at the time that I boarded the yacht that you
were suffering so greatly from your injured ankle that you did not
detect my deplorable condition. Of course, I should not have gone in
answer to your call. But I realized that you were alone, and I had
explicit instructions from your father to care for you. So, duty called
me. Then, after administering to you a sedative of extra strength, in
the next instant I injected more of the death-dealing drug into my own
arm. From that moment, the Doctor Garnet that you knew and trusted
became a Mr. Hyde. Gifford Garnet did not wish to do you harm----"

"But----"

"But Mr. Hyde became obsessed with an insane desire to have you--a young
woman absolutely pure in heart--to have you enjoy with him the wonderful
sensations derived from the hideous drug to which he was subject."

The revelation, shocking as it was, brought a profound relief to the
listening girl. The confession shone like a sun through the mists of
fear that had fallen upon her. She listened now in a mood, not of
fright, but all of pity.

"I told you when you asked me about the fate of the kidnappers that the
ring leader had escaped. That was the truth. He did escape. But he's
here to-night, a prisoner--a confessed crimi