uppose"--he smiled rather grimly--"the test
of a successful anonymous correspondent is to disguise his writing
efficiently."

"Yes." Sir Richard stretched out his hand for the paper and Anstice
yielded it to him without regret. "Well, it is pretty evident that
someone has--to put it vulgarly--got his knife into you. The question
is, who can it be?"

"Well, it's a question I'm not clever enough to answer," returned
Anstice, with assumed lightness. "All men have enemies, I suppose, and I
won't swear I've never made any in my life. But I can't at the moment
recall one who would stoop to fight with such dirty weapons as these."

"Dirty--that's just the word for it," said Sir Richard disgustedly. "But
you know, Anstice, this sort of thing can't be allowed to go on. For
your own sake, and for the sake of others"--he paused, then repeated
himself deliberately--"for the sake of others it must be stopped--at
once."

"I quite agree with you that it must be stopped," said Anstice slowly,
"though I hardly see how the matter affects anyone except myself. Of
course"--he looked Sir Richard squarely in the face as he spoke--"it is
no use denying there is a certain amount of truth in this accusation
against me. I wonder if you have the patience to listen to a story--the
story of a great mistake made, unfortunately, by me some years ago."

For a moment Sir Richard seemed about to speak; yet no word crossed his
lips. Then he said, with a very kindly inflection in his voice:

"Don't trouble to tell me the story, Anstice. I think I know it
already."

"You do?" Anstice stared at him. "But who told it to you? Was
it--Cheniston?"

"No, no." Sir Richard spoke hurriedly. "Cheniston never mentioned the
affair to me. As a matter of fact I heard it, at the time, from his
uncle, a contemporary of mine; but I confess I did not, at first,
associate you with the man who was brave enough--and unfortunate
enough--to carry out that poor girl's wish----"

"On my honour, sir, I could not have done anything else." Anstice's
voice was full of pain, and Sir Richard put his hand kindly on the
younger man's shoulder.

"Of course you couldn't--no one but a fool could imagine that for a
moment! But as I say, at first I did not connect your name with that of
the hero of the story. It was only on seeing you and Cheniston together
on one or two occasions that I guessed you might, after all, be the
man."

"Yes--to my everlasting remorse I am the man," s