ent, it is true, but a stroke of ill-fortune, and our
income might well vanish. Now listen, Bertrand. Make sure of this
girl's money. She is of age, and she will marry you."

"Her guardian would never give his consent," Saton said.

"It is not necessary," his companion answered. "I have been to
Somerset House. I have seen the will. One hundred thousand pounds she
has, in her own right, unalienable. For the rest, let her guardian do
what he will with it. With a hundred thousand pounds you can rest for
a while. We might even give up----"

Saton struck the table with his clenched fist.

"Be careful," he said. "I hate to hear these things mentioned. The
windows are open, and the walls are thin. There might be listeners
anywhere."

Her withered lips drew back into a smile. She was not pleasant just
then to look upon.

"I forgot," she muttered. "We are devotees of science now in earnest.
You are right. We must run no risks. Only remember, however careful we
are, you are always liable to--to the same thing that happened before.
It took a thousand pounds to get you off then."

Saton rose from his seat impatiently. He walked restlessly across the
room.

"Don't!" he exclaimed. "Can't we live without mentioning those
things? I am nervous to-night. Hideously nervous!" he added, under his
breath.

He stood before the open window, his face set, his eyes riveted upon a
spot in the distance, where the great white front of Beauleys flashed
out from amongst the trees. Its windows had caught the dying sunlight,
and a flood of fire seemed to be burning along its front. The flag
floated from the chimneys. There was no sign of any disturbance. The
quiet stillness of evening which rested upon the landscape, seemed
everywhere undisturbed. Yet Saton, as he looked, shivered.

Down in the lane a motor-car rushed by. His eyes followed it,
fascinated. It was one of the Beauleys cars, and inside was seated a
tall, spare man, white-faced and serious, on whose knees rested a
black case. Saton knew in a moment that it was one of the doctors who
had been summoned to Beauleys, by telephone and telegraph, from all
parts.

"You are watching the house of your patron," she said, drily.

"Patron no longer!" Saton exclaimed, rolling himself another
cigarette. "We are enemies, declared enemies--so far as he is
concerned, at any rate."

"You are a fool!" the woman said. "He might still have been useful.
You quarrel with people as though it were