nd for the first time he doubted the sincerity of the woman who had
been to him as a goddess.

He did not hear Mr. Briggerland, for the dark man was light of foot,
when he came round the shoulder of the hill. Mordon's back was toward
him. Suddenly the chauffeur looked round.

"M'sieur," he stammered, and would have risen, but Briggerland laid his
hand on his shoulder.

"Do not rise, Francois," he said pleasantly. "I am afraid I was hasty
last night."

"M'sieur, it was I who was hasty," said Mordon huskily, "it was
unpardonable...."

"Nonsense," Briggerland patted the man's shoulder. "What is that boat
out there--a man o' war, Francois?"

Francois Mordon turned his head toward the sea, and Briggerland pointed
the ivory-handled pistol he had held behind his back and shot him dead.

The report of the revolver thrown down by the rocks came to Lydia like a
clap of thunder. At first she thought it was a tyre burst and hurried up
the steps to see.

Mr. Briggerland was standing with his back to the car. At his feet was
the tumbled body of Mordon.

"Mr.--Brig...!" she gasped, and saw the revolver in his hand. With a cry
she almost flung herself down the steps as the revolver exploded. The
bullet ripped her hat from her head, and she flung up her hands,
thinking she had been struck.

Then the dark face showed over the parapet and again the revolver was
presented. She stared for a second into his benevolent eyes, and then
something hit her violently and she staggered back, and dropped over the
edge of the shelf down, straight down into the sea below.

Chapter XXXVII

Probably Jean Briggerland never gave a more perfect representation of
shocked surprise than when old Jaggs announced that he was Jack Glover.

"Mr. Glover," she said incredulously.

"If you'll be kind enough to release my hands," said Jack savagely, "I
will convince you."

Jean, all meekness, obeyed, and presently he stood up with a groan.

"You've nearly blinded me," he said, turning to the glass.

"If I'd known it was you----"

"Don't make me laugh!" he snapped. "Of course you knew who it was!" He
took off the wig and peeled the beard from his face.

"Was that very painful?" she asked, sympathetically, and Jack snorted.

"How was I to know that it was you?" she demanded, virtuously indignant,
"I thought you were a wicked old man----"

"You thought nothing of the sort, Miss Briggerland," said Jack. "You
knew who I was, and you guess