ly and his mouth twitched as his teeth almost met
in the choice Havana.

Sir Stephen threw out his hand.

"I heard you were dead," he said, hoarsely. "I heard that you had died
in a street row--in Melbourne."

Falconer's heavy face was distorted by a sneer.

"Yes? Of course, I don't believe you: who would?"

"As Heaven is my witness--!" exclaimed Sir Stephen; but Falconer went
on:

"You didn't wait to see if it were true or not; you cleared out before
I'd time to get back, and you took precious good care not to make
enquiries. No; directly your partner's back was turned you--sold him;
got the price and levanted."

Sir Stephen paced up and done, his hands clenched behind him; his fine
leonine head bent; then he stopped in front of the chair, and frowned
down into the scowling face.

"Falconer, you wrong me--it was not so bad, so black as it looked. It's
true I sold the claim; but I swear that I intended saving half for you.
But news was brought in that you were dead--a man said that he had seen
you fall, that you were dead and buried. I had to leave the camp the
night the money was paid: it would not have been safe to remain: you
know what the place was, and that the man who was known to have money
carried his life in his hand. I left the camp and tramped south. Before
a month had passed, the money had gone; if I had had any doubts of your
death, it was too late to enquire; it would have been useless; as I
tell you, the money was gone. But I hadn't any doubts; in simple truth,
I thought you were dead."

Falconer looked round the luxurious room.

"You lost the money? But you appear to have picked it up again; you
seem to be pretty flourishing, my friend; when you got on your feet
again and made your pile, why didn't you find out whether your old pal
was alive or dead?"

Sir Stephen was silent for a space, then he raised his head and met the
other's accusing gaze unflinchingly.

"I'll tell you--I'll tell you the whole truth, Falconer; and if you can
make excuse for me, if you can put yourself in my place--"

He drew his hand across his brow as if the sweat had broken out upon
it. "The luck was dead against me for a time, the old luck that had
haunted you and me; then it swung round completely--as it generally
does when it changes at all. I was out in Africa, on the tramp, picking
up a day's work now and again at the farms--you know the life! One day
I saw a Kaffir boy playing with some rough stones--"

F