happen next? I was deceived, of course--deceived by a
merely accidental resemblance. Well, then, I should have had my run for
my pains, and have taken cold, most likely, into the bargain. At all
events, I would speak to him.

Seeing me emerge from the darkness, and cross over towards the spot
where he was standing, he drew aside with the air of a man upon his
guard, and put his hand quickly into his breast.

"I beg your pardon, Monsieur," I began.

"What! my dear Damon!--is it you?" he interrupted, and held out both
hands.

I grasped them joyously.

"Dalrymple, is it you?"

"Myself, Damon--_faute de mieux_."

"And I have been running after you for the last two miles! What brings
you to Paris? Why did you not let me know you were here? How long have
you been back? Has anything gone wrong? Are you well?"

"One question at a time, my Arcadian, for mercy's sake!" said he. "Which
am I to answer?"

"The last."

"Oh, I am well--well enough. But let us walk on a little farther while
we talk."

"Are you waiting for any one?" I asked, seeing him look round uneasily.

"Yes--no--that is, I expect to see some one come past here presently.
Step into this doorway, and I will tell you all about it."

His manner was restless, and his hand, as it pressed mine, felt hot and
feverish.

"I am sure you are not well," I said, following him into the gloom of a
deep, old-fashioned doorway.

"Am I not? Well, I don't know--perhaps I am not. My blood burns in my
veins to-night like fire. Nay, thou wilt learn nothing from my pulse,
thou sucking AEsculapius! Mine is a sickness not to be cured by drugs. I
must let blood for it."

The short, hard laugh with which he said this troubled me still more.

"Speak out," I said--"for Heaven's sake, speak out! You have something
on your mind--what is it?"

"I have something on my hands," he replied, gloomily. "Work. Work that
must be done quickly, or there will be no peace for any of us. Look
here, Damon--if you had a wife, and another man stood before the world
as her betrothed husband--if you had a wife, and another man spoke of
her as his--boasted of her--behaved in the house as if it were already
his own--treated her servants as though he were their master--possessed
himself of her papers--extorted money from her--brought his friends, on
one pretext or another, about her house--tormented her, day after day,
to marry him ... what would you do to such a man as this?"

"Make my own