re
chances after this--not another single chance! I've got money enough to
satisfy Jack Blunt. He shall secretly sell the jewels for me--a small
lot, here and there, a few at a time."

"There is just one frightful risk to run," he muttered, as he reached
out for his brandy flask. "Ram Lal might go in to save his twenty-five
thousand pounds, for the Johnstone estate will never pay these disputed
claims which I cannot prove in law. Good in honor, but bad in law! And
if he should denounce me privately to the Viceroy, as the real murderer
of Hugh Fraser? He is there on the ground. I did not denounce him. I did
not produce the dagger. I dare not to explain why I concealed the crime.
An accessory! He might seek to turn Queen's evidence, and even try to
hang me. He is rich, sly, smart. By God! they may even now be shadowing
me. Once on English soil, I am at Anstruther's mercy." He was still
white-faced and unmanned as he took the Boulogne boat the next evening.
"I must face Anstruther, get my money, and then telegraph to Justine my
departure for India from London. I'll wire the poor woman from here now.
A few loving words will cheer her. Her true heart is the only jewel I
have that I have not stolen. Poor girl! she will miss me sorely!" And
the handsome blackguard sighed over the ruin he had wrought--an honest
woman's shattered peace of mind. It weighed heavily upon him now.

For there came back to him now strange shadowy glimpses of his own
stormy past! Dashing on, to face unknown dangers, the dauntless
adventurer, with a softened heart, recalled the days when he could gaze,
without a secret shudder, upon the battle-torn colors of the regiment
from which he had been chased by that suddenly discovered sin, once so
sweet!

He "looked along life's columned years, to see its riven fane--just
where it fell." And, sadly alone in life now, his heart gnawed with a
growing remorse, he saw in the mirror of memory, once more, the bright
faced boy who had "filled the cup, to toast his flag and land." Alan
Hawke, in all the bright promise of his youth, the darling of women, the
envy of men!

Under the swiftly gliding current of his tortuous past, he plainly saw
now the fanged reefs which had wrecked him! With a smothered groan, he
recalled all that he had lost, and this bitter introspection brought
up to him, among his deeds of passion, the one needless cruelty of his
reckless life! "Poor Justine! There is such a thing as woman's love