A Queen of Hearts

Southern Cross, Volume 17, Issue 15, 24 July 1909, Page 13

A Queen of Hearts

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

By Evelyn Everett-Green,

Author of "Married in Haste," "The Marriage of Marcia," "Lady Elizabeth and the Juggernaut," "Dare Lorimer's - Heritage," &c, &.

[COPYRIGHT.]

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Chapters I and lI—A little girl of ten, daughter of Sir Percival Dene, of Harts, riding over one of the Devonshire moors on her pony, accompanied by two bloodhounds, comes across a hunted man, whom she immediately befriends. She is delighted with the idea that she can assist a fugitive to escape, and shows him. a safe hiding-place. Then at the town she purchases some fishermen's clothes, food, and other necessaries with the money she has had given, to her for a birthday present. She also hands him a small sum in gold and silver. Arrayed as a fisherman, with face stained with walnut juice, he is skilfully disguised, and enabled to get out of the country. Later Queenie hears her father speak of the es-

cape of a convict from Daremoor Prison some days back. The man is 'Hugh Gresham, who was convicted of forgery two years ago, and sentenced to five years' penal servitude. Queenie keeps her secret for a year. About her next birthday she receives a package from South America, containing a pendant of Spanish topaz, set in ancient silver. She decides at once it is from her fugitive, and tells her parents the story. Years slip by. Queenie Dene is a'debutante. Radiantly beautiful, a favourite with all, her success is marked. She and her cousin, Patricia, have a chat. Sir Theodore Gresham is discussed, and Patricia tells her about a cousin of his, Hugh Gresham, who is at present an" escaped convict.

Chapters 111 and IV.—Annabel Lee, daughter of an artist, tells her father about Queenie Dene. She is her father's companion, and also studies art. Mr Lee ha's been painting Theodore Gresham's portrait, and as he sets it on his easel, Annabel criticises the expression of the eyes. Mr Lee gives her the history of tne family convict ; he was the black-and-white artist at the time of the trial. Annabel is convinced that the condemned mam never did the crime. Capt. Percy Dene and Viscount Langton are on their way homeward from army service in India. On board, their vessel at Alexandria a distinguished-looking stranger embarks. He is Oliver Lethbridge by name, a man who has travelled • much and , amassed great [wealth. Captain Percy Dene and his friend decide that he is a man with a history. He inquires of Captain Percy of his relatives and home. Percy tells him about his sister, whom they call the Queen of Hearts. He says he will be pleased to introduce Lethbridge to his family circle. Queenie is delighted to welcome her brother. She looks at a photograph and asks him the identity of a particular figure of the group. He tells her that it is a man neAned Lethbridge, whom he intends to invite. She keeps the Photograph.. Chapters V and Vl—Queenie twits her brother with the "peerless Patricia." He owns that he is in love . with-somebody else—Annabel Lee, the daughter of the portrait painter. At family party the idea is broached of having the portraits of the two girls, Queenie and Patricia, painted, and Mr Lee is chosen to do it. Queenie and Patricia make the Acquaintance of Annabel Lee and her father. Queenie notices a portrait which Annabel has made of Captain Percy Dene. Annabel tells her that she has seen an announcement of the engagement between Captain Dene and Lady Patricia Crofton. Queenie says it is not true. Sir Tjheodore Gresham , enters the studio. The two girls discuss him, and Annabel shows Queenie her father's sketch-book, containing the drawing of Sir Theod«re at the trial, at the same time giving her own opinion. Queenie tells her brother about Annabel, and agrees to help Mm all she can. At luncheon Percytells his people that Oliver Lethbridge is coming to dine that night. Chapters VII and VIII,. —At dinner tkat night Queenie wears her Spanish topaz. Her brother introduces her to Mr Lethbridge. She begins to think ie is not her fugitive. Theodore Gresham converses with Queenie and Ketts her abo«t Hugh Gresham. Sh» ol>*ain« irom the ietter of friend S»-

ormation regarding Oliver Lethbridge. She visits Sir Theodore's aunt, Miss Gresham, and again Hugh j is- discussed. Percy Dene arrives, bringing Oliver Lethbridge with him. I CHAPTER IX. ' ( . FRIENDSHIP. | Queenie watched breathlessly whilst ! Miss Gresham moved swiftly forward ; down the long bowling green. She 1 herself followed a little behind. Per- ! haps no one else would see anything iin the lady's action save the desire :to meet and greet arriving guests. Queenie suddenly asked herself whether she had got an attack of "mys■tery on the brain." I Miss Gresham passed Percy by with jjust a slight hand pressure,: and went ! straight to the other man standing \at the entrance to-, the garden green. ' Percy spoke : i "My friend, Mr Lethbridge, was :'dz-iving out with me. I have called •for my sister,, and I ventured to bring him in to see your old-world garden; you know, Miss ''Gresham, i people who contrive to sustain sur- ! vivals in these hurry-bustling days, have a certain penalty to pay to the 'public curiosity. A. garden where | King Charles the First (wasn't it he who was so fond of the game ?) may I once have played bowls with his royi al hands, is likely to.be an object of ■ curiosity to the outside world." | Queenie doubted whether Miss Gre- ! sham even heard. She had passed on j swiftly, and was face to face a , with j the bronzed stranger. Although she ! offered -her hand in a quiet fashion | enough, the girl was certain that she ! was trembling, and without doubt ! there was something unusual in 'the ! intensity of the gaze she fastened uplon the guest's lace. She herself seemed aware of this., for next moment | she spoke with just a suspicion of 'apology in her tones, and another i note also —was it of relief or disapi pointment ?

"Pardon m?, sir, but your face in the distance reminded me strongly of one which was once dear to me, but which I have not seen for Jong. I see now it is only a resemblance— —" Percy began to laugh in his merry iashion. "Lethbridge certainly must once have had a double knocking about the world of London town. Several fellows have had to give him a good stare before they have made up their minds they never saw him before. But when you ask them who they took him for they shirk the answer. Seems as though they preferred to keep that part of the story to them selves."

Queenie here spoke, addressing herself to Lethbridge, with, a graceful tact for which Miss Oressham inwardly blessed her.

"Is this not. a charming old garden ! One can hardly believe that London is only a lew miles away, and that outside are streets and omnibuses, and motors, ,and all other horrors ! Can't you just see the oldworld byoaux pacing up and down the bowling green, taking snuff, and comparing the fashions of their wigs and laced coats, quarreling sometimes, and arranging duels to be fought next morning ? What wagers they would lay over the bowl-playing ! How charmingly picturesque life was then ! I wonder whv we have spoiled it so ! T wonder whether King Charles really played bowls here, with his dear little sweet daughter, Princess Elizabeth, perhaps. What a store of memories an old place like this must have "

"Indeed, yes," spoke Lethbridge, and there was a rather curious inflection in his voice which caused Queenie once again to scrutinise his face, finding it tranquil and unmoved, though the eyes were bright, watchful, and intent.

"Come, Queenie," spoke her brother, "I must get yo\t home quick. You have to dine you know."

. Miss Gresham did not seek to detain thorn, though she kissed Queeriie's hand affectionately as she bid her farewell, asking her to repeat her visit soon —it had been a pleasure to have her.

Outside the dog-cart waited, the impatient mare pawing the ground

with her, feet. Queenie's eyes lighted. "Let me drive her, Percy, just till the traffic gets really tiresome. Does she mind motors ?"

"Not badly ; doesn't fancy them over much, of course. "All isight, -you get up and take the ribbons, and let Lethbridge see that we rear girls over here who can do a thing or two besides dance and play bridge ! I'd forgotten you were a young person of ideas on various subjects. I'll sit behind with Martin. Up you go !" So Queenie found herself driving the mettlesome mare through the quieter streets suggested and indicated by her companion. Indeed, his knowledge of the locality surprised her. He knew just where . the- would have wide and quiet roads, and where they would come out, and how to cut again into side streets,.' avoiding the congestion oi the great thoroughfares.

"Y'ou know your London.'' she observed, with one of her brilliant smiles, and in his habitual tranquil way he answered :

"London is a port, you must remember, and all' traders know her. The riverside, particularly, was my happy hunting ground on many occasions in my boyhood. I used to have a passion for streets and crowds, and the mystery of the swarming human hive. One never forgets what one leai'nt as a boy. The next morning Queenie was out betimes. In spite of late hours she still woke early, and the dewy freshness of the .June, mornings drew her like a magnet. At first her father haft ridden with her sometimes before breakfast, but she felt it was too much for him, as the whirl of town life engulfed them. Percy had inquired the Indian habit of the early ride, and he had said he should be up in time to-day ; so the horses had been ordered over-night, and Queenie ' arrayed herself in a light habit with a white linen coat, and tripped gaily downstairs before the house was astir. But no Percy made his appearance. He was sound asleep still, and Queenie, with a little laugh, settled matters for herself. "I wfll ride alone. Martin. And .you can exercise Captain's Dene's horse at the same time. You can't follow me. as you are not dressed, but you will be close at hand if I should want anything."

'The groom touched his hat, mounted tJie lady, and then swung- himself upon the other horse, following at a respectful distance, as though out for exercise on his own account, but keeping a wary eye on her all the same. Tt was a glorious morning. The scent of lilac was in the air, the gold of laburnum .made patches of livid colour. The thorn trees were bursting into glory- The spring had been very late and tardy ; now everything was rushing into bloom together. Some flowering trees and shrubs had passed their first glory ; others had scarcely attained to it ; all were more or less tripping on the heels of the others ; it was a rioting world of beauty, into which the girl was riding ; aiid she only regretted that she had nothing but the glories of the parks to revel in. How lovely the gardens would be and the moor ablaze with gorse—and the sea shimmering with glory.

Then suddenly her attention was arrested by the sight of a man battling- with a horse. It was a very strong powerful, animal, and, just at the approach of the park gates a* motor car whizzing past at an unlicensed rate of speed, had frightened the creature, who had plainly only been partially or imperfectly broken in. Quoenie watched the struggle with keen interest, quick to admire and appreciate the clever handling of the rider, his mixture of inflexible firmness with perfect temper and patience, till the battle ended by the horse suffering himself to be turned into the. gates, and then permitted the vise of his limbs in a magnificent gallop clown the long straight drive of soft tan.

It was just when the pair seemed launched upon a Mazeppa-lilce ccnirse that Queenie realised who the rider was ; and. when a short while later she met him on his return, the horse trotting- now with the grand docility of the impetuous creature which has met his match, she rewarded his e;rave salutation with a radiant smile of welcome and congratulation. "I saw ! You had a big tussle ; but you won ! He is a beauty ; is he vours ?"

"Yes ;he has rather a bad record behind him, and I thought a bad time-in front unless he got into understanding hands. So I bought him —a fair bargain. He's going to turn out well. That's a, pretty little thing you are riding—nearly thoroughbred."

"Well, half and half ; her mother is my favoarite Exmoor, and her sire a thoroughbred Paddy. She'e a darl-

ing herself. I've had her from a baby, and she'll do anything for me ; so I brought her up to town. She doesn't like it much better than her mistress, but we both do our duty, don't we Sheila ?" "You don't like town, then? One would scarcely have guessed that to look at you i" "Ah, well, there are compensations. I find it all immensely interesting. I know very well it does not do not to know something of life. One gets "borne" and stuffy, and of less use in the world," she turned her sweet eyes upon him, grave with the rush of her struggling thoughts. " When I get into the turmoil it makes me feel how very, very little , I know about anything. You would not understand the feeling. When people are talking of all sorts of subjects all round, you could join in any of the talk—you understand ; whilst I—half of it—more than half —is Greek to me." "I have lived rather longer in the world than you," and Queenie noted how the smile illuminated and changed his face. "Yes, but that is not all. You have seen and known so much! — you have such stories of experience and memories '' "That is not always a source of pleasure—or profit, believe me. A mail has too many memories which he would so willingly blot out if he could." The horses had broken into an eager gallop. For a while the riders gave them rein, and did not speak. When they reined in at the far end of the ride, which they hati quite to themselves, Lethbridge suddenly said, "Are yon going to keep your promise, Miss Dene ?" "My promise ? Ah, yes, I remember now. Did I not promise to tell you a tale about my topaz pendant ? Remember, it is a story scarcely •anybody knows. I cannot think why I was rash enough to confide it to to you." "I'll tell you why—you know that your secret will be safe with me." She looked at the strong lines of the face, with the squarely lined jaw, with the unwavering steady and she knew that he was right. "Even Percy does not know —only my father and mother. And I did not tell them for a whole year—-not till the pendant arrived, nearly on my next birthday, from South America. But you will not tell, I know. Perhaps you have helped a hunted man yoi. it elf— —" "Perhaps T have been a hunted ma.i myself," he said ; and she gave him a quick look, but his l lips were '-rut. "It was a convict from Dartmoor ; but I never thought of that then. I was always playing games to myself —history games, as I called them. I thought he might be a galley-slave. He was half-starved, and so wild and exhausted. I had some food with me to give him, and then I hid him whilst I got him clothes. I used to buy things often for the poor people about us. It was quite easy. And I haul plenty of money that day, because it was my birthday." "And you did not think about i?ow you were aiding and abetting a criminal ?—being accessory after the fact—isn't that what they call it ?" "I did not know anything about that. Besides, he was not a criminal !" "Ho ! —ho ! A convict, and not a criminal ! How do you make that out ?" "He had been wrongfully sentenced. He told me he was innocent at the time, and he spoke the truth. Oh, you may smile, but he spoke the truth. Children know that sort of thing. They know whom to trust, as dogs do ! And afterwards, when I was older, when I was old enough to know more, father himself said that he had never felt quite sure, reading about the trial earlier on, that poor Hugh Gresham was guilty, in spite of the evihence against him. I am quite sure he was not." "Tell me why !" "You will not laugh at me, or sneer if I do ?" "God forbid." She flashed a look at him. "I am glad you have said that. It makes it easier to say it all. I believe God sent me that day. He knew that the fugitive was hiding out there/Starving and desperate. * I might have done a hundred different things that day, gone a hundred different" ways. I had never ridden alone so far from home before, but I asked for a' birthday treat to go alone with the dogs. I was alone, I had plenty of money—generally I- only had a few pennies in my purse—l could do just as I liked ; and I chose that lonely track, and the dogs found the man, and I helped him to get safe away. I have' always believed that God sent me.. G"od hears, prayers, you know."

' There was' a silence now between i the pair, and Queenie would not look at him ; she felt her face was glowing' „ w -.»■ • "God bless you, he said, m a very low voice. * , Then she flashed a look at him and said : "You are rather like my convictrather like Hugh Gresham. That is what Miss Gresham meant the other day. You are not he, but you are like him —your eyes particularly." He looked into her eyes-, and smiled a perfectly free and unembarrassed smile. "Ah, that perhaps accounts for a good many things. lam glad you have told me." Suddenly his hand shot out ; she put hers into it, and felt his close like a vice." "Friends now and henceforth," he said ; and she looked at him and smiled. CHAPTER X. PATRICIA. Patricia sat upon the dais in the Chelsea studio, and at her feet sat Annabel Lee in ah attitude of girlish adoration. Patricia was somewhat old lor her age, Annabel young for hers ;so that though the gap in years was not great, it seemed the right and natural attitude of mind to assume ; and then the painter's daughter felt that she had never before met anyone in the least like the Lady, Patricia Crofton.

She had been by this time both to the house in Park Lane and Cadogan square. She and her father had dined with the Denes, and had been to to a big reception at Lady Ravenscroft's. It was rather an unusual thing for them to accept invitations of this sort, but Queenie had coaxed Mr Lee to break through his rule. She was well aware that Percy's love for Annabel was no mere boyish infatuation, but the love of his whole heart. She foresaw that there might be difficulties to combat—difficulties even with Annabel herself ; and it seemed to her that if she were able to help her brother at all in the matter, she must begin by getting Annabel to their house, into their .set, that the parents might become used to her presence, might learn something of the.beauty of her character, and perhaps when the time came might accept their own disappointment with something of resignation, recognising at any rate that Percy had not made any extraordinary blunder in the choice of a wife. Queenie often wondered what Patricia thought and felt with regard to her brother, but this was a! point upon which the elder girl observed complete r.eserve. As a matter of fact. Patricia was keenly aware of what was going on. , Some instinct had told her from, the first moment, oi their meeting afresh after long absence, that she no longer held Percy's heart- He had adored her in his boyhood ; as a very young man he had implored her to marry him —then and there —keep it secret from the world —anything so long as he might make sure of her ! She had laughed at him then, ■ had told him that he did not know his own mind ; that he was iar too young to know it yet :, that they must wait and see what the 3-ears brought. And yet he had been so dear to her ! She had always felt much older than he —in effect she was two years younger—but she loved him, and never tho'ught seriously 01 marrying anybody else, notwithstanding a lurking doubt which assailed her shortly before he went on foreign service, as to whether he had not outgrown his boyish infatuation, and might look in some other .quarter for his wife.

Patricia was not one of those women who regard marriage as the beall and end-all of woman's life. She had many interests, many hobbies, and a rather merciless clearness of vision where the other sex was concerned. She made her friends amongst women. Men admired whilst they slightly feared her, and of them she had no whit ol fear. But girls were prone to adore her, as did Annabel Lee ; and a dozen times a day the artist's daughter reminded herself. "This is the wife that Percy's friends want for him. Think how she could help and lead him,, how splendid a life by her side would be ! He must see it for herself ! I must not let him throw himself away on me. I ought to love him enough to be brave. I will try —ah, how T will try !. I know it is hard, biit we are not put into the world just to have a good time and enjoy our selves,, We have duties to ourselves and others to think of." Annabel felt that the sacrifice of her young love at the altar of Patricia's perfections would have its

element, of .compensation. When she had her idol 'before her it seemed .almost easy. Tt was in the hours of the night, or when face to, face with Percy that it. all seemed so hard—so almost impossible. If only- she could know how Patricia herself felt ! But this it was impossible to guess. When she saw them tog-ether their easy friendship and intimacy was obvious and patent to all the world. But how deep did it go with her ? —ah, if only Annabel couid know that ! Meantime, Patricia was far from blind, and was facing- her future steadfastly. She was becoming- more and more certain that Percy did not wish to ratify that boyish pact that she had refused to take seriously when made. She coiild not regard it as any pledge, yet she had asked herself sometimes during those years of separation, when no hint of his having formed another attachment reached her. whether perhaps his heart were more fixed than he supposed. And hers was tender towards him ; she was engrossed in many tender pursuits, and had no desire to entertain the proposals of other suitorsfor her hand, though these were not lacking. Naturally then, it began to be taken for granted in their world that she was "waiting for Percy, and he for her. Yet. now that they had met, and they might have been betrothed before the world —and no word had been spoken between them. Once a sudden moment of illumination had come upon Patricia, and since then she had encouraged the friendship of Annabel Lee, and striven to win her confidence. Her suspicion had sweetened for her the vague, but not poignant pain which Percy's indefinable change of attitude had awakened. She had always been his friend, she would be that still. Let him but choose worthily, and she would be glad ! After all he was still a great boy. Her lov e for him had in it many elements of the maternal still. She knew she would herself be better mated with a stronger man ; yet she had been so fond of Percy—so used to the idea of passing her life at his side,, and had he desired it she would haVe been ready, Nevertheless, he might have judged the situation better himself. The hours in the quiet studio gave time for much reflection and thinking ; also they made for friendship betwixt her and Annabel. The painter never heard or heeded what passed whilst he was at work, and the girls felt practically alone together. Then at the close of the sitting Annabel would make tea, which they would enjoy together, and sometimes when the carriage was sent to bring Patricia home, she would take Annabel for a drive first, an immense and unmixed delight to her. To-day no drive was in prospect ; a hansom cab would take the sitter back. Annabel had just begun to bestir herself over preparations for tea when a step outside made itself heard, the door opened without any preliminary summons, and she uttered an exclamation of surprise and pleasure. "Looks like it, I-fancy ; but I beg your pardon. TSey sa'id below that your sitter had gone." Patricia rose with a pleasant smile and slight elongation of her graceful figure bv wa.v of a. stretch.

"The sitter ought to have been gon some time ago," she said, stepped dow;n from the dais, whilst 'Annabel cried :

"'Ah, please let me introduce our cousin, Mr Warburton St. John. He's been in Ireland a good while. We had not heard he had com® back yet " A look of kindled interest shone in Patricia's face. She knew instantly upon what errand the rising barrister had gone. At once she had a score of shrewd, pertinent questions to, put to him- They sat and talked eagerly whilst .Annabel made and handed the tea. Patricia had wide interests in the world ; her father was a politician of some standing, whose opinions carried weight. The newcomer was keen to hear them ; Patricia was as keen to know what he thought of the situation with which he had helped to deal. She knew that he had been chosen to assist in the investigation on account of his acumen as well as his sound legal knowledge. As he talked she studied his face. It was not handsome ; it was of that variety known as "hatchet" ; but it wa'a full of individuality and power, and took a score of different telling expressions in as many seconds under the stimulus of absorbing conversation. It wa's easv to imagine what a powerful pleader this man would make in court. Already ihc-c.i were •many who would "take silk" at a phenomenally early age. He vas about five-and-thirty now, and had as much work as he could well put' through, despite the fact that he was known to be something of an e« c«n-

trie, and was by no means o-.-tain to i accept a proffered brief. j When Patricia left he accompanied r her down the long flights of stairs to the door ; he a'lso had taken his leave of the studio for the time being. "I suppose you don't feel like com- < ing back with me ?" spoke Patricia, the unconventional, as she hailed a hansom. "My father would be very glad to hear some of these things at first hand ; and he believes in you, Mr St. John. ."

"That's a bait," answered the barrister, with the keen smile that so lighted his face as to make it almost boyish. "I should live to get Lord Kavenscroft's views on a good points. Well, since you are so kind and friendly, suppose I take you at your word ?" "Suppose you do !"

The wheels made little noise on the wood pavement ; conversation was little impeded. Something her companion said made Patricia's question tall naturally enough from'her lips : "Ah, but tell me, please—why do they call you a' crank ? You seem to me a very level-headed one, anyhow."

"Yes, but a crank for all that, at least as the world judges. The reason is, I believe, that I won't hold a brief for'or againfet any less I ajn perfectly convinced in my own mind that the cause I uphold is the right and just one." "And this is called—a fad, is it?" "Yes ; it is not business, you know. You ought to argue that every question has two sides, and it's the business of the lawyers to put each side as cleverly and convincingly as possible before the judge, and jury, and public. If you are defending a villain you give him the chance the law allows, and making the best of it ; if you prosecute you must show how black the sheep can be made to look, and let the other fellow whiten him after if he can. Oh, there's plenty of common sense in that view of the case. Law and equity are oddly yoked together, and take it all round, our system's a good one. But I got a turn in the days of ray youth—and- I've never quite got over it since."

"What do you mean ? If it's not intrusive to ask."

"Not a. bit .in the world. I was a youngster through college, and eating my dinners, and keen to be in the courts all the time ; and I was there when a poor young fellow, gently born and all that—was sentenced to five years' penal servitude for forgery. I've never forgotten his face as I saw it when sentence was passed, and there were more people than, myself in the court who thought that but for the almost devilish ingenuity and cleverness of the prosecuting counsel, and his fashion of cross-ex-amination, the case might not have been able to appear so clear against hint."

"Are you speaking of the Gresham •case ?"-

"Y'es, it's ancient history. of course, and I believe the young fellow escaped. Hather a pity now, as it makes him an exile for ever ; but naturally enough he'd risk everything for freedom. Well, hearing that prosecuting counsel, and watching the lad's face, he was just about my own age, and I'd seen him a'bout town, though I'd no personal knowledge of him—it gave me a' queer turn. I was a bit of a boaster in those days ; I meant to set the Thames on fire, and go up hand over hand once I had my feet on the rungs of the ladder ; but that day I registered a vow. I'd never have a hahd in sending an innocent man to jail—as too many are sent, I fear : and I'd never try to get a real rogue off his due by any forensic talent on my part. I didn't quite know when I took the vow what it was going to cost me, but I stuck to it, and I've worried out all right in spite of being a crank '' "A splendid crank !" swiftly spoke Patricia.

He bowed towards her with brightened eyes. "Thank you ; yes, I thought you would understand my attitude of mind. .1 don't mean that I think myself so very splendid " and the humorous twist of the mouth gave a very comical look to the thin marked features, "but it's pleasanter to be thought a fine fellow than a bit of a fool ; and we know the perilously close juxtaposition of the sublime and the ridiculous." "We are. naturally interested in that story, for Theodore Gresham has begun to go out into society lately. I mean the younger one, who succeeded the uncle whose na'me was forged. He left the.country after his cousin was sentenced, and one heard almost nothing about him until quite lately. He came into the title four years ago, I think, but I have only

seen him quite recently." "Theodore Gresham —I remember ; He . was one of the most important witnesses, poor chap ; simply turned inside out in cross-examination ; let out most damaging facts. And the cruel thing was that Sir Theodore repented himself in the middle, and would have liked to stop proceedings —but they had gone too far. He had got the best counsel in the bar for

his man, and a bull-terrier does not let go his rat once he's got him in his grip !" "I- suppose nothing's ever been heard of the poor convict since ?" "I should guess not ; he's a face that wouldn't lend to disguise. I should know him amongst a thousand if ever I saw him again. But that's not likely." (To be continued).