r, confidential looks and
jocular speeches which filled Kilshaw's cup of disgust to the brim.
Whenever the man did that sort of thing, Kilshaw was within an ace of
kicking him down-stairs and throwing away the poisoned weapon; but he
never did.

Mere chance willed that as Gaspard on Saturday evening was going home,
having done a hard day's work at organising a trade procession for the
next day, he should fall in with Benham. He stopped to speak, feeling an
interest in all that concerned the man; and Benham, radiant and effusive
from the process of "moistening his luck," would not be satisfied till
Gaspard had agreed to sup with him and at his charges.

"Oh, if you like to do a good deed to an enemy," laughed the Frenchman,
letting the other seize him by the arm and lead him off; and he thought
to himself that he might as well spare so liberal a host. Might there
not be other suppers in the future? Dead men, if they told no tales,
paid for no suppers either.

After the meal they had another bottle of wine, and Benham called for a
pack of cards. Francois won, and politely apologised.

"It is too bad of me," he said, "after your hospitality, _mon cher_."

"Oh, five pound won't hurt me, or ten either," cried Benham, draining
his glass.

"No? Happy man!"

"I know where money comes from," continued Benham, with a wink.

"Ah, a man who knows what you do!" retorted Gaspard. "Have you forgotten
telling me--you know--about our good Medland?"

"Did I tell you? Well, I had forgotten. Who cares! It's true--every
word."

"Oh, I don't say it isn't," laughed Gaspard incredulously.

"But you don't believe it is?"

"We can't help our thoughts, but----" and another laugh ended his
sentence.

Benham looked round. They were alone. Cautiously he drew a bag of money
and a roll of notes from his pocket. For a moment he opened the bag and
showed the gleam inside; wetting his forefinger, he parted the notes for
a second.

"Some one believes it," he said, "up to five hundred pound."

"That's the sort of belief I'd like to inspire," laughed Gaspard,
watching the money back into its pocket with a curious eye.

"Come, you're not drinking," urged the hospitable Benham.

"You don't show me the way," untruthfully answered the guest, as Benham
complacently buttoned up his coat, little imagining that his neighbour
was weighing a question, very momentous to him, in the light of fresh
information.

Five hundred pounds! The duty of r