rose and took my hand in both his, the tears running down his cheeks.

"Anstruther," he continued, mastering his emotion with an effort, "I am
going to ask a further sacrifice from you as a condition of my consent
to your marriage with Dolores--a very necessary condition, or I would
not make it.

"Anstruther, I ask you to keep eternal silence on what has occurred to
you since you entered the door of the house in Monmouth Street, that
dull evening in November. I ask you never to refer to it again from
this moment, in any shape or form.

"Tell me, can you make this promise?"

I stood with my hand in his, my eyes fixed on his kind old face working
with emotion.

"And this is the final condition you ask," I replied, "to my union with
Dolores? You are satisfied in every other way?"

"I am satisfied," he replied; "I ask no more."

"Then I give you my promise," I replied, gripping his hand hard; "the
subject to me shall be dead. God help me to keep my word!"

* * * * *

My future father-in-law and I sat chatting an hour longer over the
bright fire in the sitting-room while the gloaming of a February day
was deepening without, and he had talked to me with the familiarity
accorded to one already admitted to his family circle.

Dolores had gone to a concert at the Assembly Rooms and we did not
expect her back until between five and six.

It was when we had both paused in our conversation and sat with our
eyes fixed on the leaping flames--the only illumination of the
room--that a knock came at the door and a waiter entered.

"A gentleman to see you, sir," he said, addressing Don Juan.

"Who is it?" d'Alta asked.

"I think it is one of the police officers, sir," replied the man; "he
gave the name of Bull."

"Ah! it's the inspector, evidently," commented the Don. "Show him up.
I wonder whatever Inspector Bull can want," he continued, turning to
me; "we only left him an hour or two ago."

The inspector came to answer for himself. The waiter threw open the
door and he entered.

I saw at once that he had something of importance to communicate. His
demeanour was that of the Duke of Wellington on the morning of Waterloo.

"Certain information of importance," he commenced, after we had greeted
him, "having come to 'and this afternoon, sir, I thought it well to
come round and see you immediate."

The inspector's eyes wandered round the apartment. There was a
sideboard certainly; pr