in my
life. Well, when we reached the corner we both heard the clatter of the
horse's hoofs on the cobbles and looked up. He was coming on at a
fearful rate, and people were shouting at him in a way that must have
increased his frenzy. Quite a crowd had collected, and this fellow and I
were jostled forward upon the crossing. I shouted to the crowd not to
push us, and pressed back with all my strength. He was just ahead of me.
He had two means of escape--to hold back as I had done, or to dash
forward. He hesitated, and that second's pause was fatal. The horse
plunged forward, struck him squarely, knocked him heavily upon the
stones, and left him there, covered with the remnants of its harness,
which having become caught in his coat, somehow or another, were drawn
off its back."

[Illustration: THE HORSE PLUNGED FORWARD, STRUCK HIM SQUARELY, AND
KNOCKED HIM HEAVILY UPON THE STONES.]

"Terrible!" cried Miss Maddledock, "Was he much hurt?"

Mr. Maddledock leaned forward and bent his ear to catch the answer.

"I don't know how much, but certainly enough to make his recovery a
matter of doubt."

Mr. Maddledock slightly frowned. "A--matter--of--doubt?" he repeated,
pausing with singular emphasis on each word.

"Yes, of grave doubt," answered Torbert, "and dread too, for even if he
gets well again, he must be maimed for life, and he was the sort of
creature that ought not to have a deformity added to his general
ugliness."

Emily Maddledock had been leaning her chin upon her hand with a
thoughtful look in her face for several minutes. As Torbert paused, she
said: "Your description of that man brings a face to my mind that I saw
recently somewhere. I can't seem to remember about it clearly, though
the face is very distinct."

"Indeed?" said Torbert. "Now, that's curious. If you've ever seen the
beggar you ought to remember it. There's one other mark upon him that
may serve to place him still more clearly before you. Directly over his
left cheek-bone there is a long rectangular mole--"

"Yes! yes!" cried Emily. "I remember. Why, father--"

Mr. Maddledock had been sipping his wine. As Emily suddenly looked up
and addressed him, he twirled the glass carelessly between his thumb and
finger, remarking, as if this were the only feature of the story that at
all impressed him, "A mole, did you say? What a monstrosity!"

"Um, well, is it?" Torbert replied. "Can't say I'd thought of that."

"Don't think of it!" sharply rem