r," said Mark, as the ghastly-looking man turned to go
back across the hall.

"Same here, sir," said Jane, with a grave curtsey; "but I don't see as
it'll do you any good now you're ruined to try and ruin us."

"And if I was you, sir, I wouldn't touch another drop, sir," put in
Mark. "I've seen chaps in your state before after a race--chaps who
have lost every penny--go and fly to the drink."

Trimmer gazed vacantly at the speaker, passed his tongue over his
parched lips, and said feebly--

"Do I--do I look as if I had been drinking, Mark?"

"That's so, sir; and as if, seeing what a stew you're in over your
losses, it hadn't took a bit of effect upon you."

"No, no," said the agent, slowly. "I don't feel as if I had had more
than a glass."

"And all the time, sir, as the conductors say, you're `full up'; and if
you put any more on it you'll soon find it out, and come on with a fit
of the horrors, same as some poor beggars have before there's an
inquest."

The agent shuddered, and unconsciously began to play with the
extinguisher of the plated candlestick, lifting it off the cone upon
which it rested, putting it back, and ending by lifting it off quickly,
and, as if to illustrate the groom's meaning, putting out the light.

"Pst! Hark! What's that?" cried Jane, excitedly. "Here they are!"

Trimmer started violently. "Oh," he cried, "I can't meet anybody now.
Mark--Jane--don't say that I have been out I shall not--tell her
ladyship--a word."

"Thank ye for nothing," said Mark, mockingly, as the door closed upon
the departing agent. "How the dickens did he do that?" he added, for a
flower-pot in the conservatory fell with a crash upon the encaustic
tiled floor, and Jane uttered a gasp.

But the next instant the front door-bell was rung violently.

"Come with me, Mark," whispered the girl, and they both hurried into the
hall, the groom to open the door, and Jane to busy herself with
trembling hands striking matches to light a couple of the chamber
candlesticks standing ready upon the slab.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

IN THE FOG.

"Murder! Now for a row," thought the groom, as, to his horror, he saw
in the moonlight, instead of the barouche and pair with Lady Lisle
inside, the dogcart, down from which Sir Hilton was stepping, helped by
Syd, while a second dogcart was coming up the drive with a lady on the
seat and a big heavy man leading the horse, and the gate clicking loudly
as it swung to and fr