ost in perplexed thought, and, as again and again his face was turned
to the light, the watcher studied it closely; finally he seemed
satisfied with his scrutiny, for he turned away and groped back to the
street once more.

"It's the other one," he muttered, drawing a long breath of relief. "I
might have known it from the first; so he is the young Doctor they tell
of! Well, it's a rum game that brings him here, and it's certain he
don't want to be known. He can't know me, and--Jove, I'd like to pay him
for the hits he gave me," and he fell to pondering as he turned his
steps, not the way he had come, nor yet toward Mapleton, but in the
direction of "Old Forty Rods." But long before he reached his
destination, the creeping, stealthy shadow, had ceased to follow, and
had vanished down a side street.

[Illustration: "It's the other one," he muttered.]

A few lights were glimmering, here and there, as he turned down the, not
very elegant, street on which was located the haven of "Forty Rods," and
when he was within a block of the place, a man, coming suddenly around
the corner, ran square against him.

Burrill uttered an oath, as he with difficulty regained his balance, but
the new-comer called out in a voice, a little unsteady from some cause:

"Helloa! B--Burrill, that yer, ole feller? Didn't mean ter knock against
yer, give-ye my word I didn'. Give us a tiss, ole man, an' come-long to
Forty's!"

"Brooks," said Burrill, taking him sociably by the arm, and facing
toward the saloon in question. "Brooks, you're drunk; you're beastly
drunk; drunk as a sailor by all that's sober." And together they entered
"Old Forty Rods."

CHAPTER XX.

CONSTANCE AT BAY.

"It is impossible, sir! utterly impossible! and, pardon me for saying
it, most absurd! This matter has been dragged on too long already. And
on such evidence I utterly refuse to follow up the case. You have done
well, undoubtedly, but it was only at the urgent request of Mr. Lamotte
that I have allowed it to continue, and now I wash my hands of the whole
affair."

It is Constance Wardour who speaks, standing very straight and with head
very firmly poised, and wearing upon her face what Mrs. Aliston would
have called her "obstinate look." Her words were addressed to a well
dressed, gentlemanly looking personage, who is neither young nor yet
middle aged, and who might pass for a solicitor with a good run of
clients, or a bank cashier out on special busines