ht have
warned you, by the bye, that I am an exceedingly hard man to kill."

Richardson looked uneasily around.

"I ain't admitting anything, you know," he said.

"Precisely! Well, what are you going to do now? Are you satisfied with
your first reverse, or are you going to renew the experiment?"

"I've had enough," was the dogged answer. "I've been made a fool of. I
can see that. I shall return home by the next steamer. I never ought to
have got mixed up in this."

"I am inclined to agree with you," Wingrave remarked calmly. "Do I
understand that if I choose to forget this little episode, you will
return to England by the next steamer?"

"I swear it," Richardson declared.

"And in the meantime, that you make no further attempt of a similar
nature?"

"Not I!" he answered with emphasis. "I've had enough."

"Then," Wingrave said, "we need not prolong this conversation. Forgive
my suggesting, Mr. Richardson, that whilst I am on deck, the other side
of the ship should prove more convenient for you!"

The young man rose, and without a word staggered off. Wingrave watched
him through half-closed eyes, until he disappeared.

"It was worth trying," he said softly to himself. "A very clever woman
that! She looks forward through the years, and she sees the clouds
gathering. It was a little risky, and the means were very crude. But it
was worth trying!"

THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE

"Tomorrow morning," Aynesworth remarked, "we shall land."

Wingrave nodded.

"I shall not be sorry," he said shortly.

Aynesworth fidgeted about. He had something to say, and he found it
difficult. Wingrave gave him no encouragement. He was leaning back
in his steamer chair, with his eyes fixed upon the sky line.
Notwithstanding the incessant companionship of the last six days,
Aynesworth felt that he had not progressed a single step towards
establishing any more intimate relations between his employer and
himself.

"Mrs. Travers is not on deck this afternoon," he remarked a trifle
awkwardly.

"Indeed!" Wingrave answered. "I hadn't noticed."

Aynesworth sat down. There was nothing to be gained by fencing.

"I wanted to talk about her, sir, if I might," he said.

Wingrave withdrew his eyes from the sea, and looked at his companion in
cold surprise.

"To me?" he asked.

"Yes! I thought, the first few days, that Mrs. Travers was simply a vain
little woman of the world, perfectly capable of taking care of herself,
and heart