DACOBRA OR, The White Priests of Ahriman.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIII, Issue 122, 24 May 1902, Page 3 (Supplement)

DACOBRA OR, The White Priests of Ahriman.

By HARRIS BURLAND

[COPYRIGHT.]

CHAPTER XIV.

«.«P FAITHFUL HEART OF A .HE *** WOMAN.

By the end of January 13th all arrangements were complete. Alan Steyning had chartered a 100 ton steam yacht, and on the evening of January 10th I received a letter from him, saying that he and his wife would sail from Glasgow early next morning, and hoped to arrive at their destination a few hours before the time I had fixed. But the "Fire j-iy" was evidently overdue, for both T and Faversham had been out on the top of the cliff after lunch and scanned the horizon in vain for any signs c f her. 'I did not feel easy in my jnind; during the last two days the w ind had risen, and . there was a heavy sea-rolling in from the west, so that, it was quite possible she might;-be a few hours late. There in fact, considerable cause for enxie.tv; it might be impossible to land ..boat, and if this mode of escape failed us there was only a remote chance of getting out of the country." ,Hacobra would leave no stone unturned to stop us, but once at sea, it wmdd be hard with us if

yie could not escape, at any rate for a tiinei I- had often wondered why Dacobra'had not made his escape by

sea to some hiding place, until the evil day was past. But probably his life was bound up in such a network of invisible threads that it was impossible for- him to break loose from them. I guessed now that his movements were watched day and eight. Before dinner I wrote a few instructions for, the ordering of my household, and placed them in a sealed envelope which I handed to my valet, with orders to open it if we did not return by the morning. In another envelope I placed a letter to my lawyer concerning my private affairs. I am a little ashaified to confess this, now that I am still alive, but at the time I was impressed with the fact that our. errand was a serious one, and even so unromantic an occurrence as a slip of the foot might mean no return for me. After dinner I ordered the horses to be got ready, slipped into my pocket one thousand pounds in notes which I had drawn from the bank the day before, and carefully filled the chambers of my revolver. Faversham wound up a hundred-foot coil of rope, and wrapped up the red light in a piece of oilskin. We rode quietly down to the inn, and walked straight from there to the edge of the cliff by the first palisade. There was no danger of our being seen. It was a nasty night, blowing .half a gale already, and threatening* io become worse. * There was no moon, and not a light to be seen on land or sea.

We looked over the* waters for any sign of the "Fire Fly." I had arranged that she should burn three -white lights on her foremast. But the whole sea was wrapped in darkness, and only a black gulf of howling wind and roaring waves stretched away from beneath our feet.

"Thy is serious, Faversham," I said, holding on to OEe of the iron bars, and supporting myself against the wind. .

"Perhaps we cannot see her," he replied. "I expect the air is thlfck with spray, and.the lights of these smallboats are not easily seen in weather hb this. I should like to burn a red light now, but you did not provide for any signal of that sort,"

"Well, I am going over the cliff, FaMKham," I said. "I will do my best." We fastened the rope securely to one of the railings. I turned up my sleeves at the wrists and put one leg over the top of the cliff. "Good-bye, Faversham, for an hour or two," I said cheerily. "I have a Whistle in my pocket;" if I blow it three times, go for help. Keep your eyes open for the yacht. If I succeed I will come to the foot of the chff and give a signal; then you must burn one of the red lights and come down below." Faversham held m his hand and said nothing; but I fould feel what he would have said Dythe strong grip of his fingers. At that moment one of the windows oi the castle opened, and a strong white fight shone the darkless Faversham sank to the ground, «ntt lay flat in a small hollow. I slipped over the top and hung for a mo<v« face to the to P of the ««■ Then the light slowly passed the circular palisade, searching "er. inch for a radius of two hunted yards. "Be careful, Faversham," 'whispered. *Watch and listen as if |°ur ufe depended upon it," and then A descended carefully to the beach. as I moved cautiously towards the Ppstern door I caught my feet in a lZ Cc , corda ge and stopped to disentangle them. Then I thought the cord might be useful to me, and I Knt+i. Pi ° k ii; up from lhe stones. «T \ * ' vas a dead wei S ht at either At: a ° d > feeling in my pocket for a *nite I ran my hand along the cord o cut off as long a piece as I could. j to a large stone, and 1 q ," lckl y severed the strands. Then oth yhand alon §' U t0 the iae» eil( } ? and encountered some . "*ing soft and wet and furry. It was W* „ mon key, and the cord was jotted tightly round its throat. I «" not dare to strike a light, but by I* ,f my fin ?ers over its little body could easily guess what it was. I XhLAA Td a S ain ' and > rollin £ it up, ""gat it info my pocket. When I reached the postern the tide was ne ar iy up to the foot of the cliff. looked up at the castle and inspectgj carefully. The only signs of life 2 * e ° uld detect were four small of ! les of Hgtt, each about the size wn«i_ e v ny . piece ' 1 3 ud S ed *at they tow in tbe Gutters of the big 2 r! ng *£.° m wind ow which looked i oa the sea. and which was about deJv om the to P of the cliff - Sud - aml' aS * looked , one disappeared «Q appeared again; then another did *«'Same thing; an d then another. e *e Tvas evidently someone there,

moving between the light and the window.

Then fortune favoured me. I saw a large break in the clouds, and a star shining clearly in the West, and in a few seconds the whole scene was flooded with light. I saw at a glance the position of the window', and that it was heavily shuttered with iron. Then my eye ran quickly over the surface of the cliff and castle wall, taking in every crack and projection that might offer a foothold. I did not waste a second. I glanced at the moon and saw that with luck it would shine out for about ten minutes. Then I commenced to climb. The cliff was firm and the footholds were good; moreover, a long thin weed of great strength grew deep in the cracks and crannies of the rock. The climb was not, a difficult task for a znountaineer with nerve and experience, but it would have been folly for Paversham to have attempted it.

I reached the top in safety, and to my delight saw that at this place the castle wall was not flush with the face of the cliff. There was a ledge at least two feet wide, and about ten feet in length. I rested on it for a minute to get my breath, and continued my examination. Then I saw that on either side of the shutters the iron hinges were so large and so elums iky fastened into the wall that they each formed a sort of hook. My mind went swiftly to the rope in my pocket, and taking it out I examined it closely. It was new cord, threeeighths of an inch in thickness, and I calculated that it would bear my weight if I were careful. I tied a loop at each end, and stood up on the ledge. I could just reach my hand up to within a foot of the hinges, and tried to throw an end over each of them. Here at any rate was something to support some or all of my weight, until I had thoroughly inspected the windows. The only danger was that the hinges would not be securely fastened in the wall. After a great deal of care and many attempts and considerable strain to the muscles of my feet and hands, I got the rope, fixed to one of the hinges; then I carefully made my way to the other side of the window, and attached the other end. The rope swung in a curve to just below the "window ledge. I tested it first by leaning upon it heavily with one hand. Then I threw all my weight on it, my toes just touching.the ledge in case, of accidents. It stood the strain well, but I heard the iron hinges grate in their stone sockets. Then, holding on to the rope with both hands, I foUnd small footholds in the old loose stones of the wall, and, raising myself up, managed to scramble intoa sitting posture on to the rope. It was as comfortable as a swing, save that my knees were pressed hard against the wall, and I could not help thinking of the black depths below me. I was just in time, for I had scarcely settled myself when a dark mass of clouds obscured the moon. I put my eye to one of the holes, and to my surprise I noticed that the window was open, and I should be able to not only see but hear what was going on inside. I thought it a little odd that it should not have been shut on such a stormy winter's night, but it was a most fortunate circumstance, as now only the iron shutters lay between me and my entrance into the house.

Miss Eawlins was in the room, and as far as I could see, alone. I could not be quite sure of this, aa my range of. vision was limited, but the fact that she was reading a book seemed to indicate that she was by herself. I had not seen her for several days, and was shocked to see how much she had altered. Her face was deathly white, and she seemed much thinner than when I saw her last. She turned over the pages of her book in a listless, tired way, as if she were not thinking of its contents, and, pressing one of her hands to her forehead, winced as if she were in pain.

I did not watch her for more than a minute. If she were alone this was my opportunity to get into the house and do my best to save her. No more favourable chance could have come my way. It was better than if I had found the room empty, for in that case 1" should have had to look for her in the house. I arranged -my plan of action in a few seconds. I would tap on the shutter, and if she hesitated tb let me in—which was very unlikely—would hint at my perilous position and appeal to her mercy. Once inside I would lock the door, state my errand, tell her something of the awful truth, and persuade her to come away at once if she would save her life. If she consented we could probably find some means of escaping through the postern. If she refused I would do all a man could to take her out by force, though in my heart I felt that the task would be an impossible one. If I failed I would whistle to Faversham, then stay by her to protect her to the last, d gave one look behihd me to see if the lights of the Fire Fly were visible, and was disappointed to see nothing but the darkness; then I turned back to tap gently on the shutter, but before I did so I looked through one of the holes and saw that I was too late. The door oppo- ' site opened slowly, and Dacobra stood in the entrance. I swore deeply under my breath, and slipping my right hand into my pocket grasped the butt of my revolver. Then I laughed and took out my hand again, so as to be opt of temptation. It had not come to that yet.

He entered the room and closed the door. Miss Eawlins looked round at him and smiled. He came over to her with a half frightened look in his eves and laid his hand on the soft coils of her hair.

"Well, darling," he said, tenderly, "are you better?" "Yes," she cried, "of course I am; there is so much to amuse me. How are the fortifications, and when do you expect the enemy? It is quite like mediaeval times. What a silly old father you are. I believe you are doing- it all to amuee me and keep me

in good spirits. If anyone is going to attack yo#i why don't you send for Muckle Mickie. as they call the village policeman?" and she laughed merrily. He did not answer, butlooked at her with infinite sorrow in his eyes. Then he pulled up a chair and sat down opposite her.

"Elaine," he said, gravely, "I have much to tell you, and yet I cannot tell you all. I could tell you nothing if I did not know you loved me."

"You are the dearest and best of fathers," she said taking hold of one of his lean brown hands.

"I have tried to be so" he continued. "I have tried to make you happy and to give you -all that you desired. I do not think you can remember that I have ever said a harsh word or done an unkind action to you."

She was silent, but gave him a look of fond gratitude.

'Yet," he went on, "wherever my name is known men have cursed it. I have lived a long and bitter life, Elaine, but to-night, when I tell you the truth, will be the bitterest moment cf it all."

I saw the agony in the man's face and pitied him. Elaine saw it too and her face reflected the dark shadow of its pain. I could see too that she was frightened. It is anticipation that strikes terror into the hearts of women like Elaine, but when the worst is known they face it bravely and go to death with a smile on their lips. I had no fear for her conduct in this crisis, so great an admiration had I conceived for her courage and strength of mind.

"Those palisades you see Elaine— these iron shutters—they are grim reality, strange though it may seem to you in this prosaic nineteenth century When the work was started I told j'ou it was an amusement for my spare time. As it progressed and you did not believe me I jestingly told you that it was being erected to keep out our enemies. Yet I did not really jest."

; "Mr Faversham?" she cried in a low voice. "Mr Faversham? He would not hurt us, and Mr Maxwell will restrain him till his brief madness is over. Oh, father, they are Englishmen—brave, honourable men. They would not hurt a girl and an old man."

"Mr Faversham is as sane as you or I," he said hoarsely. Then he stopped. He was afraid.

"As sane as you or I, father?" she repeated, mechanically. I think a suspicion of the truth was beginning to dawn on her, but she looked at him enquiringly.

"As sane as you or I," he said. "Elaine, the words he spoke in his wild anger were the words of truth."

"Truth," she said with wide open, staring eyes. "The truth? No, no! It is impossible." "He did not lie," the old man continued. "He did not lie?" she queried, still in even voice. "In the first, place, I am not your father, Elaine." She looked at him for a moment or two and then dropped her eyes.

"I am all the more grateful to you," she said slowly, "for adopting me as your child. I have known no other father."

"I am no relation of yours. I am so old that your father might be my son. Secondly, m.y name is not Dr. Rawlins."

"It does not matter," she said in a low voice, yet I could see that the iron had entered into her soul, and that each deceit of one she loved was a fresh stab to her heart.

"And, lastly," he continued in a voice so low that I could hardly catch the words, "and lastly—Oh, Elaine— my child —Elaine!"

She rose quickly to her feet with a look of horror on her face. Dacobra put out his arms appealingly, but she shrank from him, and I could see that this movement of aversion was more bitter to him than the bitterness of death.

"Elaine!" he cried piteously. A shiver passed through her slender frame and she hid her face in her hands.. Then she moved swiftly forward and, flinging herself on her knees, seized his hand and placed it to her lips.

"Forgive me, father," she cried. He placed his hand on her head, and for a space of five minutes neither of them moved or spoke. Then the old man raised her face and kissed her on the forehead.

"I should not have spoken, Elaine," he said, "but I wished the choice to lie in your hands."

She rose to her feet and I saw that in those few minutes all the girlhood had died out of her face and that the soul of a strong woman shone from her eyes—the soul of Zuhran, the daughter of Sadik, the silversmith; the soul of Parisatis looking through all the centuries.

"Tell me all," she cried, and sitting down on the couch she took hold of his hand. "I trust you. Tell me everything. I know that you will speak the truth."

"Fox Faversham spoke the truth," he answered, "and he would take you from me, but I will fight him for you as long as I have breath. Yet it is not for him that I have made a fortress of Balath. It is for one from whom if he lay hands on you I am powerless to protect you, nor if the armies of England were at your back could they save you from him—one w-ho is human and yet not human; a creature of flesh and blood and yet eternal; all powerful over those who have been given into his power, yethelpless to harm a child whose soul has not been given to him. Such a one is coming, and to-morrow he will be here. Your life and soul are in his power. He gaye —and he will take away."

"My life and roj soul?" she said, clasping her hands. "My life and my soul?"

"I speak the truth, Elaine," the old man cried. "By all I hold most dear ■■ —by your own dear self —I swear I speak the truth."

"Tell me everything," she said in a low voice, looking fixedly across the room with vacant eyes. "Tell me who I am—my lifelong history—that break in my memory."

"The story matters not," he replied. "I would spare you the truth, Elaine; yet this much I will tell you." He rose to his feet and crossed the room to where the strange picture in the ivory frame hung on the wall. Then he laid his hand tenderly upon the canvas. "Do you know who this is, Elaine?" he eaid, without turning his head. "My mother; have you not told me

so?" She looked at ; him pitifully. All the fairness of her faith and trust was crumbling like dead sea fruit. "A lie!" he cried. "Another lie! This is the form of one that I loved, and that I still love with all my heart and soul. That body is dust, and my love has passed from the coarse clay of passion and desire to be the eternal love of a soul. And that soul is still on earth, and shall be with me till He who gave it-shall take it away It has lain in bondage through "all the centuries, moving from form, to form, knowing neither; rest nor happiness, nor the silence of that eternal sleep which is given to men with death. Sixty-three years ago this woman died, and for sixty-three years havel battled day and night to give her soul freedom. But I have failed, Elaine—failed, and when I thought success was certain! And the price must be paid to-morrow. Do you know who this is, .Elaine?"

The girl did not answer, but cowered in a heap on the sofa, and covered her face with her hands.

"Do you know who this is, Elaine?" he repeated, coming to her side. Still she did not move, and he touched her gently on the arm. Then she suddenly gave a cry, and, rising to her feet, pressed her hands to her forehead and sank unconscious to the floor.

The old man fell on his knees beside her and murmured unintelligible words. He fetched some water and sprinkled it on her' face, calling her name in a piteous voice. Theft he raised her limp body in his arms and laid it on the sofa, and for ten minutes tried to restore her to consciousness by every means in his power. Then the girl suddenly opened her eyes and sat bolt upright, staring- vacantly at the picture.

"Are you better, dear child?" Dacobra said, taking hold of her hand.

For a few seconds she did not answer him. Then a strange thing happened. "Is that, you, Dacobra?" she said in Persian and her voice had a far-away sound, as if she spoke from the depths of some ravine. During my stay in Persia I had picked up sufficient of the language to be able to understand her. Dacobra started and looked sharply round the room, as if someone had addressed him.

; 'Is that you Dacobra?" she continued, never inovihg her eyes from the painting on the wall. '" I havo waited long for you, Dacobra, and if my father should know he would kill me. I sometimes think that if thou dost truly love me, thou wouldst leave me for ever."

"I love thee, Zuhrah," he replied in the same language, looking not at the girl as he spoke, but at the picture on the Avail. "I love thee, dearest, with all my. soul, and I will never leave thee."

"Where are the roses, Dacobra?" she continued—" the red roses thou didst promise me? Ah! I see their crimson petals peeping from thy hands. Why dost thou hold thy hands behind thy back, Dacobra? Ah! It is blood, Dacobra! It is blood that lies red on thy hands."

" There is blood on my hands, sweet star of the mountain, and I would shed the blood of all the world for thee. This is the blood of one who spoke ill of thee."

" Where is the silver charm, Dacobra, to keep the evil spirits from me? Do I see it glittering in thy girdle? Nay, it is the steel of thy knife that glitters."

" That steel is a charm," he answered, " that will keep the evil from thee, dear heart."

" Let us go, my lord," she cried, still with fixed eyes and expressionless face. "It is dark. I hear the nightingales in the mountains. The scent of the roses is in the air. Let us go and dream of love—Ah! what is that? what is that? why didst thou not bring the charm. Dacobra? The evil spirits are near us. I hear them crying to me- The air is cold with the beating of their wings. It is winter. Dear heart, protect me, protect me! " - ;

As she spoke she rose to her feet and pointed to the Wall: The tones of her voice froze my blood cold with horror, and I looked to where she pointed, half expecting to see something. But there was nothing there, and she sank back on to the sofa, and, muttering something in so low a tone that I could not hear the words, she closed her eyes. |

Dacobra still looked at the picture, nor did he turn round till the girl gave a deep sigh and stirred slightly by his side. Then he seemed to awake from his stupor, and watched her face anxiously. In a minute or two she opened her eyes .again.

" Where have I been?" she said, in English- "Ah! I remember. It was dark and in some Eastern land. I have been there before—once or twice before, when I have fainted. What does it mean?, Ah! I remember now."

She raised herself up to a sitting position, and stared at the picture. "I understand," she said, quietly; "I understand. To-morrow, you said? Why have you not told me everything? " ' - . " Elaine, dear child," he replied, "if it would give you a moment's peace or a moment's happiness to tell you, 1 would do so. But if you can trust mv word, do not ask me." " I can trust you,", she said. " You would not deceive me. But „is _there no escape?" She seemed quite calm now. I had judged her rightly- In a supreme moment, of terror, such as this, her strong will asserted itself and strangled her fears with fingers of steel. " There is no escape but one, Elaine," he replied, .drawing out two small white pellets from one,of his pockets and placing .them in the palm of his hand. "It is death in any case, Elaine. But this will mean rest for all Eternity. There are two here, Elaine—one for you and one for myself. Promise me that when the hour conies, and you know- that this is no idle story of a fevered brain —promise me this, Elaine: that you will face your death with a calm and thankful mind."

She held out her hand, and he placed one of the pellets in her palm. " I promise," she said, softly; . I promise, dear father—l may call you father still—that if this be all true and not a fancy of yotir brain, and that if there should be no escape but by this road, I will not be afraid to travel along it." Her face was lit with a smile; it almost seemed a smile «jf triumph. He stooped and

reverently kissed her'hand as if she w r ere a. queen.

" Elaine," he said, humbly, " you are the bravest and uoblest. of all women in the world t and when the time comes it is not you that will %c afraid." He rose, and, walking over to the picture, looked at it earnestly. The girl rose to her feet-D-white and imperious—with flashing- eyes.

"Whoever I am," she cried, "and whatever it is that comes, I do not fear. We will fight—fight—fight— and if we are not strong enough — well, you have given me that which may prove too powerful for our enemies." With these words she walked over to the door, and looking back for a second at Dacobra, passed out of my sight. For a minute he did not move. Then he looked at his watch and came straight towards the window. I slipped my right hand quickly on to the butt of my revolver, and gripped the window sill tightly with my left hand. I heard the drawing of a bolt, and ducked my head below the ledge. Then, the iron shutters were thrown back with a clang. I raised my head slowly, and I and Dacobra were face to face.

CHAPTER XV.

HOW I FLUNG THE GAUNTLET IN DACOBRA'S FACE. Dacobra started, but said nothing. Then he smiled, and taking a small penknife from his pocket opened it thoughtfully, and began to trim one of his nails. When he had finished, he carefully laid the knife on the sill close to the cord, and looked out into the night. He could not see my revolver, as my right arm was still by my side, below the level of the window.

" Good evening, Mr Maxwell," he said, pleasantly. " No, E would not raise my right arm if I were you. You might startle me, and if my hand slipped on' to the rope—well, it would be a nasty fall." I did not answer, and, to say the truth, felt a little foolish. " I think you have mistaken the entrance," he continued ; " could you not get an answer to the bell?"

" Stop this .fooling! " I said, sternly, looking him straight in the eyes. " I have come to have a talk with you. The reason for my mode of entrance will probably suggest itself to you."

" Pray, come in," he said, extending his hand, " and allow me to assist you. I must apologise for the awkwardness of the entrance —no, your right hand, if you please." I slipped my revolver back into my pocket and put up my hand. He gripped it firmly, and I never knew till then the enormous physical strength that he possessed. He pulled me almost bodily through the window. When I was in the room he laughed. He was evidently not afraid to be alone with me, though he was practically at my mercy. Perhaps he relied upon his knowledge of human nature. It is very difficult for an ordinary sane being to kill an unarmed man in cold blood. Then his eyes seemed to gaze past me, far out to sea, as though he expected to see something. He walked close up to the window and leaned out, scanning the darkness intently. " The storm is rising," he said. "Do you see a light out at sea?" I came to his side and looked, though I did not know what light he expected to see, unless the chartering of the " Fire Fly" had come to his knowledge. But there was nothing there. It was all darkness. The wind swept round the castle with terrific force, howling and moaning like the voice of a lost soul. Beneath us the waves thundered on the rocks, and even at this height the salt spray was driven in our faces.

" I see nothing," I said, turning away from the window with a heavy heart. Tho old man peered a minute or two longer into the night, and then, crossing the room, he took a small portable electric light from the table, and let the rays play over the castle walls and the face of the cliffs- Then he withdrew his head sharply, and, closing the iron shutters with three strong bolts, shut down the window inside.

" Well, Mr -Maxwell," he said, "will you not sit down?" There was a cruel sneer on his lips, and I could hardly believe him to be tbe same man as I had been watching through the hole in the shutter. All the tenderness had died out of his eyes; his face was a cold mask of stone, and his voice was hard and bitter.

I did not answer him, but studied him carefully, wondering what motive he had for allowing me to enter the house, and what line of conduct he was likely to pursue. I did not think it necessary to offer any explanation, and I did not suppose he would demand one. We understood each other.

"Will you not sit down?" he repeated.

"No, thank you." I replied. "I think I can say all I have to say in about three minutes." "You will excuse me, then. I am an old man and am tired," and he Bat down in a chair a few feet from where I was standing. "Well, Dr. Rawlins, lor Mr Dacobra, or 'whatever your real name is, you probably understand that I know everything?" "Knowledge is power," he replied quietly, "except in the hands of fools, who cannot use it to the oest advantage." "I intend to use such advantage as youth and strength can give me." "Really?" "I intend to take that poor girl away from here to-night, and place her in safe hands. By a lucky circumstance I have become acquainted with her story. Whether It be true or not, it is certain from what I have heard that she is in danger, and she must leave Balath to-night."

"It was indeed a lucky circumstance," he replied, with a sneer; "yet I have heard the thing called by a less pleasant name. It was also a lucky circumstance, I presume, that your friend, Mr Faversham — another honourable gentleman —has sunk to the level of a common thief."

"Words!" I replied. "Words! A life is at stake, and we are men enough to forget that we are gentlemen. But I am not here to talk. Where is the girl? Will you ring the bell and have her sent for, or shall I go and seek her out myself?" "You cannot have listened very attentively at the window," he said, "or you would have heard her decision in the matter."

"You abuse her#lov© and devotion

towards you," I answered sharply. "Too great a coward to kill her yourself, you thrust the choice of life or death into her own hands at a time when her mind was disordered with fear."

"There was only one choice that she could possibly have made. Look here, Mr Maxwell. Do you believe this stoiy or do you not?" "I do not know. It seems incredible."

"Well, I will put the facts to you either way. If you do not believe it, do you suppose" that I should wish to put an end to her life and mine for the sake of a fairy tale?" "It is possible that you are mad."

"It is possible, but I know that you do not think so. You have weighed the matter carefully, and the truth of this story is, in y_»ur mind, the only solution." "Well, if it be true?" "Then I tell you, Mr Maxwell, that when the priest comes, no power on earth can save the life and soul of this girl from him." "It is possible that you are mistaken," I replied. "Suppose that when he comes he does not find her here." The old man smiled wearily. "Do you think I have not weighed that chance?" he asked. "There is no place on all this earth where they would not find her. They have jvatched and followed me for sixtythree years. I will give yoii an instance. I once purchased a yacht, and thought that 1 would sail the whole wide world ceaselessly, with hundreds of miles of sea as a barrier between us. Yet before the year w-as out, in -spite of every precaution, I saw that we were still followed. We entered some port in Australia, anchoring some two miles out; put ashore in a boat, and then sailed off again. As they hung the boat on the davits, a white monkey jumped ( out of her. I had the satisfaction of seeing it sink through the green water with a lump of coal at its neck. But I saw the uselessness of it all, and it would be a thousand times more useless now. It would mean a flight of terror for weeks and perhaps for months, with this shadow chasing remorselessly, and with a certainty of ultimate capture. No, Mr Maxwell; there is no escape but death."

"Why then these palisades, these iron shutters—or perhaps they are for my benefit."

"You flatter yourself, Mr Maxwell," he replied. "They are useless. They will perhaps giv«, us a few hours longer, but if they were of paper they could not be more useless to affect the end."

"I have a yacht in the bay," I said quietly. "I am going to take Miss Bawlins on board- The wife of a friend of mine will look after her. I will chance the ultimate failure. But I will dio my best, and you can come, too, if you like."

"You are very kind," he replied coldly; "but we shall have to decline your offer. Our plans are made, and we are the best judges of our own actions."

"Well, you can stay; but the girl comes," I said. Fbr reply he rose ■from his seat and walked to the window, opened it, and flung open the shutters.

"Do you see your yacht?" he said, with a sneer.

The moon was shining faintly through a stormy mass of clouds, and I could see the white foam of the waves dancing across the dark waters. The wind hissed like the lash of a w-hip. There were no lights upon the sea.

"If she is there," he said, "I am sorry for her. Heaven help the. men who try to land a boat on this coast to-night." I recognised the truth,of what he said, and in my own heart realised that it was hopeless to look for any assistance from Alan Steyning. An impossible task lay before' me, but I was still resolved to see it through till ifaiiutre .\vafs| absolutely forced upon me. It was certain that I should need assistance, and I began to feel in my pocket for tbe whistle. But to my horror I could not find It anywhere; it had probably dropped out of my pocket while I was climbing the cliff. It was evident that I should have to act alone.

(To be continued on Saturday.)