ing to talk about. It was a terribly close shave, wasn't it?"

"An awful close shave, Johnny. As close a shave as ever was."

Still, as if not quite understanding what he saw, old Donald was staring
into John's face.

"I'm glad it happened," said Aldous, and his voice became softer. "She
loves me, Mac. It all came out when we were in there, and thought we were
going to die. Not ten minutes ago the minister was here, and he made us man
and wife."

Words of gladness that sprang to the old man's lips were stopped by that
strange, cold, tense look in the face of John Aldous.

"And in the last five minutes," continued Aldous, as quietly as before, "I
have learned that Mortimer FitzHugh, her husband, is not dead. Is it very
remarkable that you do not find me happy, Mac? If you had come a few
minutes ago----"

"Oh, my God! Johnny! Johnny!"

MacDonald had pitched forward over the table, and now he bowed his great
shaggy head in his hands, and his gaunt shoulders shook as his voice came
brokenly through his beard.

"I did it, Johnny; I did it for you an' her! When I knew what it would mean
for her--I _couldn't_, Johnny, I couldn't tell her the truth, 'cause I knew
she loved you, an' you loved her, an' it would break her heart. I thought
it would be best, an' you'd go away together, an' nobody would ever know,
an' you'd be happy. I didn't lie. I didn't say anything. But
Johnny--Johnny, _there weren't no bones in the grave!_"

"My God!" breathed Aldous.

"There were just some clothes," went on MacDonald huskily, "an' the watch
an' the ring were on top. Johnny, there weren't nobody ever buried there,
an' I'm to blame--I'm to blame."

"And you did that for us," cried Aldous, and suddenly he reached over and
gripped old Donald's hands. "It wasn't a mistake, Mac. I thank God you kept
silent. If you had told her that the grave was empty, that it was a fraud,
I don't know what would have happened. And now--she is _mine!_ If she had
seen Culver Rann, if she had discovered that this scoundrel, this
blackmailer and murderer, was Mortimer FitzHugh, her husband----"

"Johnny! John Aldous!"

Donald MacDonald's voice came now like the deep growling roar of a
she-bear, and as he cried the other's name he sprang to his feet, and his
eyes gleamed in their deep sockets like raging fires.

"Johnny!"

Aldous rose, and he was smiling. He nodded.

"That's it," he said. "Mortimer FitzHugh is Culver Rann!"

"An'--an' you know this?"