follow. Have I sounded the depths of your intent?"

"And if you have--what then?" demanded sullen Rotherby.

"This, my lord," answered Mr. Caryll, and he quoted: "'The man that once
did sell the lion's skin while the beast lived, was killed with hunting
him. Remember that!"'

They looked at him, impressed by the ringing voice in which he had
spoken-a voice in which the ring was of mingled mockery and exultation.
Then her ladyship shook off the impression, and laughed.

"With what d'ye threaten us?" she asked contemptuously.

"I--threaten, ma'am? Nay, I am incapable of threatening. I do not
threaten. I have reasoned with you, exhorted you, shown you cause why,
had you one spark of decency left, you would allow me to depart and
shield me from the law you have invoked to ruin me. I have hoped for
your own sakes that you would be moved so to do. But since you will
not--" He paused and shrugged. "On your own heads be it."

"On our own heads be what?" demanded Rotherby.

But Mr. Caryll smiled, and shook his head. "Did you know all, it might
indeed influence your decision; and I would not have that happen. You
have chosen, have you not, Rotherby? You will sell me; you will hang
me--me, your father's son. Poor Rotherby! From my soul I pity you!"

"Pity me? Death! You impudent rogue! Keep your pity for those that need
it."

"That is why I offer it you, Rotherby," said Mr. Caryll, almost sadly.
"In all my life, I have not met a man who stood more sorely in need of
it, nor am I ever like to meet another."

There was a movement without, a tap at the door; and Humphries entered
to announce Mr. Green's return, accompanied by Mr. Second Secretary
Templeton, and without waiting for more, he ushered them into the room.

CHAPTER XXII. THE HUNTERS

To the amazement of them all, there entered a tall gentleman in a
full-bottomed wig, with a long, pale face, a resolute mouth, and a pair
of eyes that were keen, yet kindly. Close upon the heels of the second
secretary came Mr. Green. Humphries withdrew, and closed the door.

Mr. Templeton made her ladyship a low bow.

"Madam," said he very gravely, "I offer your ladyship--and you, my
lord--my profoundest condolence in the bereavement you have suffered,
and my scarcely less profound excuses for this intrusion upon your
grief."

Mr. Templeton may or may not have reflected that the grief upon which he
deplored his intrusion was none so apparent.

"I had not ventured to