ly.

"And that your next clear recollection is of lying here, where you were
brought after being found delirious by the police?"

"Yes, yes," he said impatiently.

"Robbed?"

"Stripped of everything," he said bitterly.

"It could not have been a friend, then, with whom you took refuge," said
Rich.

Mark was silent.

"Must it not have been a dream?" said Janet in a whisper to her
companion.

"No," said Rich aloud. "I think that all Mark recollects before he took
this medicine must be true, and that this friend must have drugged him."

Mark drew a long, catching breath between his teeth.

"And robbed him while he slept."

Mark's breast rose and fell as if he were suffering some great emotion,
and he stared at Rich wildly, his hand twitching and his lip quivering
as he waited for her next speech, which seemed to crush him, as she
asked in a clear firm voice.

"Who was the friend to whose house you went?"

He looked at her wildly, with the thoughts of the consequences of
telling her that which he believed to be the truth--that Dr Chartley--
her father--the father of the woman he passionately loved--had drugged
him--taken the treasure for which he had fought so hard, and then cast
him forth feverish and delirious into the river to die. For he realised
it now: he had been swimming; he could even recall the very plunge; he
had been cast into the river to drown, and somehow he must have
struggled out.

"Who was the friend, Mark?" she said again, in her calm firm way.

"Yes, who was it?" cried Janet, with her little lips compressed. "You
are right, Rich. Some one did do this dreadful thing. Who was it,
Mark?"

The sick man turned from her with a shudder, while she, all excitement
now, pressed his hard hand.

"Tell us, Mark dear, that he may be punished, and made to restore what
he has stolen."

"No, no!" he said excitedly; "I cannot tell you--I do not know."

"Try and recollect, Mark," said Rich gently; and she looked in his face
with an appealing smile.

"No, no!" he gasped, as he shuddered again; "it is impossible. I--I do
not know. And Heaven forgive me for my lie!" he muttered, as he sharply
withdrew his hands, sank back upon his pillow, and covered his face.

"He must be left now," said the nurse firmly, "He is very weak, and your
visit is proving painful. Say good-night to him. You can come
to-morrow. He will be stronger after a night's rest."

"But--there is no danger?" whispered Ri