to the
police. You are a Griscelli."

"Yes, sir."

"Which of them?"

"I am Giuseppe, the son of Giuseppe."

"In that case you are _his_ grandson. How did you find me out?"

"You were at Paris last summer."

"But you did not see me there."

"No, but Giacomo did; and from your name and appearance we felt sure you
were the same."

"Who is Giacomo--your brother?"

"No, my cousin, the son of Luigi."

"What is he?"

"He belongs to the secret police."

"So Giacomo put you on the scent?"

"Yes, sir. He ascertained that you were living in England. The rest was
easy."

"Oh, it was, was it? You don't find yourself very much at ease just now, I
fancy. And now, my young friend, I am going to treat you better than you
deserve. I can afford to do so, for, as you see, and, as your grandfather
and your father discovered to their cost, I bear a charmed life. You
cannot kill me. You may go. And I advise you to return to France or
Corsica, or wherever may be your home, with all speed, for to-morrow I
shall denounce you to the police, and if you are caught you know what to
expect. Who is your accomplice--a kinsman?"

"No, only compatriot, whose acquaintance I made in London. He is a
coward."

"Evidently. One more question and I have done. Have you any brothers?"

"Yes, sir; two."

"And about a dozen cousins, I suppose, all of whom would be delighted to
murder me--if they could. Now, give that gentleman your dagger, and march,
_au pas gymnastique_."

With a very ill grace, Giuseppe Griscelli did as he was bid, and then,
rising to his feet, he marched, not, however, at the _pas gymnastique_,
but slowly and deliberately; and as he reached a bend in the path a few
yards farther on, he turned round and cast at Mr. Fortescue the most
diabolically ferocious glance I ever saw on a human countenance.

CHAPTER V.

THEREBY HANGS A TALE.

"You believe now, I hope," said Mr. Fortescue, as we walked homeward.

"Believe what, sir?"

"That I have relentless enemies who seek my life. When I first told you of
this you did not believe me. You thought I was the victim of an
hallucination, else had I been more frank with you."

"I am really very sorry."

"Don't protest! I cannot blame you. It is hard for people who have led
uneventful lives and seen little of the seamy side of human nature to
believe that under the veneer of civilization and the mask of convention,
hatreds are still as fierce, men still as reveng