her," said the wreck. "What are you doing with her?"
he demanded fiercely.

"That is no business of yours," replied van Heerden sharply.

"No business of mine, eh! I'll show you it's some business of mine. I am
going to tell her all I know about you. I have been a rotter and worse
than a rotter." The old flippancy had gone and the harsh voice was
vibrant with purpose. "My path has been littered with the wrecks of
human lives," he said bitterly, "and they are mostly women. I broke the
heart of the best woman in the world, and I am going to see that you
don't break the heart of her daughter."

"Will you be quiet?" hissed van Heerden. "I will go and get her away and
then I will come back to you."

Jackson did not reply. He sat huddled up in his chair, muttering to
himself, and van Heerden walked quickly back to the girl.

"I am afraid I shall have to let you go back by yourself. He is having
one of his fits. I think it is delirium tremens."

"Don't you think you had better send for----" she began. She was going
to say "send for a doctor," and the absurdity of the request struck her.

"I think you had better go," he said hastily, with a glance at the man
who was struggling to his feet. "I can't tell you how sorry I am that
we've had this scene."

"Stop!"--it was Jackson's voice.

He stood swaying half-way between the chair he had left and the alcove,
and his trembling finger was pointing at them.

"Stop!" he said in a commanding voice. "Stop! I've got something to say
to you. I know ... he's making you pay for the Green Rust...."

So far he got when he reeled and collapsed in a heap on the floor. The
doctor sprang forward, lifted him and carried him to the chair by the
pillar. He picked up the overcoat that the man had been wearing and
spread it over him.

"It's a fainting-fit, nothing to be alarmed about," he said to the
little knot of people from the tables who had gathered about the limp
figure. "Jaques"--he called the head-waiter--"get some brandy, he must
be kept warm."

"Shall I ring for an ambulance, m'sieur?"

"It is not necessary," said van Heerden. "He will recover in a few
moments. Just leave him," and he walked back to the alcove.

"Who is he?" asked the girl, and her voice was shaking in spite of
herself.

"He is a man I knew in his better days," said van Heerden, "and now I
think you must go."

"I would rather wait to see if he recovers," she said with some
obstinacy.

"I want you to go