ded to crave."

"Then the seat is yours, Trevelyan. By the way, I read in the newspapers
that Evelyn Trevelyan is none other than Lord Stranleigh; but then, of
course, you can never believe what you see in the press, can you?"

"Personally, I make no effort to do so. I get my news of the day from
Ponderby, who is an inveterate reader of the principal journals favoured
by what he calls the 'upper classes.' But I assure you that Evelyn
Trevelyan is a name that belongs to me, and I wear it occasionally like
an old, comfortable-fitting coat."

"Ah, well, I'll not give you away. I'll see you at lunch between here
and Cherbourg." And the doctor hurried away to his duties.

The young man continued his stroll, smiling as he remembered some of the
doctor's excellent stories. He regarded his meeting with that friendly
officer as a good omen, but hoped he would encounter no one else who
knew him.

The next interruption of his walk proved to be not so pleasant. There
came up the deck with nervous tread a shabbily-dressed man, who appeared
from ten to fifteen years older than Stranleigh, although in reality
there was no great disparity in their ages. His face was haggard and
lined with anxiety, and his eyes had that furtive, penetrating glance
which distinguishes the inveterate gambler. Stranleigh watched his
oncoming with amazement.

The Hon. John Hazel had been a member of some of the most exclusive
clubs in London; but whether or not Nature had endowed him with a useful
talent, he had become notorious as a reckless cardsharper, quite
unscrupulous when it came to obtaining money. No one knew this better
than Lord Stranleigh, who had been so often his victim, yet had regarded
his losses lightly, and forgiven the Hon. John time and again. But
recently this younger son of an ancient and honourable house had
committed the unpardonable sin--he had been found out, and had been
permitted to resign from all his clubs but one, and from which he was
expelled by a committee not so lenient. After that he disappeared. He
was done for, so far as England was concerned, and he knew it.

"John, is this possible?" cried Lord Stranleigh, as the other
approached.

Hazel stopped, his eyes veiling over, as though he held a hand at poker
that was unbeatable.

"I haven't the pleasure of knowing you, sir," he said haughtily.

"I'm glad of that, because I'm Edmund Trevelyan at the moment, and was
just hoping I should meet no one on board who wo