hing that I am to be Thursday."

"My dear fellow." said Syme heartily, "I congratulate you. A great
career!"

Gregory smiled in deprecation, and walked across the room, talking
rapidly.

"As a matter of fact, everything is ready for me on this table," he
said, "and the ceremony will probably be the shortest possible."

Syme also strolled across to the table, and found lying across it a
walking-stick, which turned out on examination to be a sword-stick,
a large Colt's revolver, a sandwich case, and a formidable flask of
brandy. Over the chair, beside the table, was thrown a heavy-looking
cape or cloak.

"I have only to get the form of election finished," continued Gregory
with animation, "then I snatch up this cloak and stick, stuff these
other things into my pocket, step out of a door in this cavern, which
opens on the river, where there is a steam-tug already waiting for me,
and then--then--oh, the wild joy of being Thursday!" And he clasped his
hands.

Syme, who had sat down once more with his usual insolent languor, got to
his feet with an unusual air of hesitation.

"Why is it," he asked vaguely, "that I think you are quite a decent
fellow? Why do I positively like you, Gregory?" He paused a moment, and
then added with a sort of fresh curiosity, "Is it because you are such
an ass?"

There was a thoughtful silence again, and then he cried out--

"Well, damn it all! this is the funniest situation I have ever been in
in my life, and I am going to act accordingly. Gregory, I gave you a
promise before I came into this place. That promise I would keep under
red-hot pincers. Would you give me, for my own safety, a little promise
of the same kind?"

"A promise?" asked Gregory, wondering.

"Yes," said Syme very seriously, "a promise. I swore before God that I
would not tell your secret to the police. Will you swear by Humanity, or
whatever beastly thing you believe in, that you will not tell my secret
to the anarchists?"

"Your secret?" asked the staring Gregory. "Have you got a secret?"

"Yes," said Syme, "I have a secret." Then after a pause, "Will you
swear?"

Gregory glared at him gravely for a few moments, and then said
abruptly--

"You must have bewitched me, but I feel a furious curiosity about you.
Yes, I will swear not to tell the anarchists anything you tell me. But
look sharp, for they will be here in a couple of minutes."

Syme rose slowly to his feet and thrust his long, white hands into hi