jaunty. He gave the impression of a man who has gone through an ordeal,
the marks of which he still bears upon him, but which has helped him to
his end.

"You're not going yet?" he cried, as Smith rose from the sofa.

At the prospect of solitude, his fears seemed to crowd back upon him,
and he stretched out a hand to detain him.

"Yes, I must go. I have my work to do. You are all right now. I think
that with your nervous system you should take up some less morbid
study."

"Oh, I am not nervous as a rule; and I have unwrapped mummies before."

"You fainted last time," observed Monkhouse Lee.

"Ah, yes, so I did. Well, I must have a nerve tonic or a course of
electricity. You are not going, Lee?"

"I'll do whatever you wish, Ned."

"Then I'll come down with you and have a shakedown on your sofa.
Good-night, Smith. I am so sorry to have disturbed you with my
foolishness."

They shook hands, and as the medical student stumbled up the spiral and
irregular stair he heard a key turn in a door, and the steps of his two
new acquaintances as they descended to the lower floor.

* * * * *

In this strange way began the acquaintance between Edward Bellingham
and Abercrombie Smith, an acquaintance which the latter, at least, had
no desire to push forward. Bellingham, however, appeared to have taken a
fancy to his rough-spoken neighbour, and made his advances in such a way
that he could hardly be repulsed without absolute brutality. Twice he
called to thank Smith for his assistance, and many times afterwards he
looked in with books, papers and such other civilities as two bachelor
neighbours can offer each other. He was, as Smith soon found, a man of
wide reading, with catholic tastes and an extraordinary memory. His
manner, too, was so pleasing and suave that one came, after a time, to
overlook his repellent appearance. For a jaded and wearied man he was no
unpleasant companion, and Smith found himself, after a time, looking
forward to his visits, and even returning them.

Clever as he undoubtedly was, however, the medical student seemed to
detect a dash of insanity in the man. He broke out at times into a high,
inflated style of talk which was in contrast with the simplicity of his
life.

"It is a wonderful thing," he cried, "to feel that one can command
powers of good and of evil--a ministering angel or a demon of
vengeance." And again, of Monkhouse Lee, he said,--"Lee is a good
fell