tler, and his foes fell
prostrate before him. He gave up the race round the world, and he gave
up his address to young Antonelli; then he gave up everything to his
brother. He sent Stephen money enough for smart clothes and easy travel,
with a letter saying roughly: 'This is all I have left. You have cleaned
me out. I still have a little house in Norfolk, with servants and a
cellar, and if you want more from me you must take that. Come and take
possession if you like, and I will live there quietly as your friend
or agent or anything.' He knew that the Sicilian had never seen the
Saradine brothers save, perhaps, in pictures; he knew they were somewhat
alike, both having grey, pointed beards. Then he shaved his own face
and waited. The trap worked. The unhappy captain, in his new clothes,
entered the house in triumph as a prince, and walked upon the Sicilian's
sword.

"There was one hitch, and it is to the honour of human nature. Evil
spirits like Saradine often blunder by never expecting the virtues of
mankind. He took it for granted that the Italian's blow, when it came,
would be dark, violent and nameless, like the blow it avenged; that the
victim would be knifed at night, or shot from behind a hedge, and so
die without speech. It was a bad minute for Prince Paul when Antonelli's
chivalry proposed a formal duel, with all its possible explanations. It
was then that I found him putting off in his boat with wild eyes. He was
fleeing, bareheaded, in an open boat before Antonelli should learn who
he was.

"But, however agitated, he was not hopeless. He knew the adventurer and
he knew the fanatic. It was quite probable that Stephen, the adventurer,
would hold his tongue, through his mere histrionic pleasure in playing a
part, his lust for clinging to his new cosy quarters, his rascal's
trust in luck, and his fine fencing. It was certain that Antonelli, the
fanatic, would hold his tongue, and be hanged without telling tales
of his family. Paul hung about on the river till he knew the fight
was over. Then he roused the town, brought the police, saw his two
vanquished enemies taken away forever, and sat down smiling to his
dinner."

"Laughing, God help us!" said Flambeau with a strong shudder. "Do they
get such ideas from Satan?"

"He got that idea from you," answered the priest.

"God forbid!" ejaculated Flambeau. "From me! What do you mean!"

The priest pulled a visiting-card from his pocket and held it up in the
fain