n. 'But do you come down so heavily
on ignorant admiration, Ashburn, eh?'

'Oh, it isn't that,' said Mr. Fladgate; 'it's his confounded modesty.
I shall be afraid to tell him when we think about bringing out another
edition. I really believe he'd like never to hear of it again!'

Mark felt himself flush. 'Come,' he said, with a nervous laugh, 'I'm
not so bad as all that!'

'Oh, you're beginning to stand fire better. But (it's such a good
story you _must_ let me tell it, Mr. Ashburn, particularly as it only
does you credit). Well, he was so ashamed of having it known that he
was the author of "Illusion," that he actually took the trouble to get
the manuscript all copied out in a different hand! Thought he'd take
me in that way, but he didn't. No, no, as you young fellows say, I
"spotted" him directly; eh, Mr. Ashburn?'

'I'm afraid it's time for me to be off,' said Mark, dreading further
revelations, and too nervous to see that they could do him no possible
harm. But the fact was, Caffyn's presence filled him with a vague
alarm which he could not shake off.

Good-natured Mr. Fladgate was afraid he had offended him. 'I do hope
you weren't annoyed at my mentioning that about the manuscript?' he
said, as he accompanied Mark to the door. 'It struck me as so curious,
considering the success the book has had, that I really couldn't
resist telling it.'

'No, no,' said Mark, 'it's all right; I didn't mind in the least.
I--I'm not ashamed of it!'

'Why, of course not,' said his host; 'it will be something for your
biographer to record, eh? You won't have another cigar to take you
home? Well, good-night.'

'Good-night,' said Mark, and added some words of thanks for a pleasant
evening.

_Had_ he had such a pleasant evening? he asked himself, as he walked
home alone in the warm night air. He had been well treated by
everybody, and there had been men present whose attention was a
distinction in itself, and yet he felt an uneasiness which he found it
difficult to trace back to any particular cause. He decided at last
that he was annoyed to find that the casual mention of Holroyd's name
should still have power to discompose him--that was a weakness which
he must set himself to overcome.

At the same time no one could possibly discover his secret; there was
no harm done. And before he reached his lodgings, he decided that the
evening had been pleasant enough.

CHAPTER XXII.

STRIKING THE TRAIL.

It was Sunday