ome back, and then if anything
happened to him--"

"He'd try and make things happen to others, eh? But there's little
danger of his coming back. They know he's a traitor, and he knows he'd
be hung. If he's alive he'll stay where he is. Cheer up! Take my word,
Olivier Delagarde has only himself to fear." He put out his hand.
"Good-bye. If ever I can do anything for you, if you ever want to
find me, come or send to--no, I'll write it," he suddenly added, and
scribbling something on a piece of paper he handed it over.

They parted with another handshake, Detricand making his way into the
Rue d'Egypte, and towards the Place du Vier Prison.

Ranulph stood looking dazedly at the crowd before him, misery, revolt,
and bitterness in his heart. This French adventurer, Detricand, after
years of riotous living, could pick up the threads of life again with a
laugh and no shame, while he felt himself going down, down, down, with
no hope of ever rising again.

As he stood buried in his reflections the town crier entered the Vier
Marchi, and, going to La Pyramide, took his place upon the steps, and in
a loud voice began reading a proclamation.

It was to the effect that the great Fishing Company trading to Gaspe
needed twenty Jersiais to go out and replace a number of the company's
officers and men who had been drowned in a gale off the rock called
Perch. To these twenty, if they went at once, good pay would be
given. But they must be men of intelligence and vigour, of well-known
character.

The critical moment in Maitre Ranulph's life came now. Here he was
penned up in a little island, chained to a criminal having the fame of a
martyr. It was not to be borne. Why not leave it all behind? Why not let
his father shift for himself, abide his own fate? Why not leave him the
home, what money he had laid by, and go-go-go where he could forget,
go where he could breathe. Surely self-preservation, that was the first
law; surely no known code of human practice called upon him to share the
daily crimes of any living soul--it was a daily repetition of his crime
for this traitor to carry on the atrocious lie of patriotism.

He would go. It was his right.

Taking a few steps towards the officer of the company standing by the
crier, he was about to speak. Some one touched him.

He turned and saw Carterette. She had divined his intention, and though
she was in the dark as to the motive, she saw that he meant to go to
Gaspe. Her heart seem