ckoned to the
women, who came noiseless into the room, and bent over the sleeping
face. In his contempt for them, the detective neither spoke nor left his
seat. Harpies brooding over the dead! Even he knew that!

Arthur's face lay in profile, its lines all visible, owing to the strong
light, through the disguise of the beard. The melancholy which marks the
face of any sleeper, a foreshadow of the eternal sleep, had become on
this sleeper's countenance a profound sadness. From his seat Curran
could see the pitiful droop of the mouth, the hollowness of the eyes,
the shadows under the cheek-bones; marks of a sadness too deep for
tears. Sonia took his face in her soft hands and turned the right
profile to the light. She looked at the full face, smoothed his hair as
if trying to recall an ancient memory.

"The eyes of hate," murmured Edith between tears and rage. She pitied
while she hated him, understanding the sorrow that could mark a man's
face so deeply, admiring the courage which could wear the mask so well.
Sonia was deeply moved in spite of disappointment. At one moment she
caught a fleeting glimpse of her Horace, but too elusive to hold and
analyze. Something pinched her feelings and the great tears fell from
her soft eyes. Emotion merely pinched her. Only in hate could she writhe
and foam and exhaust nature. She studied his hands, observed the
fingers, with the despairing conviction that this was not the man; too
lean and too coarse and too hard; and her rage began to burn against
destiny. Oh, to have Horace as helpless under her hands! How she could
rend him!

"Do you see any likeness?" whispered Edith.

"None," was the despairing answer.

"Be careful," hissed Curran. "In this sleep words are heard and
remembered sometimes."

Edith swore the great oaths which relieved her anger. But what use to
curse, to look and curse again? At the last moment Curran signalled them
away, and began talking about his surprise that Arthur should have known
the lost man.

"Because you might have given me a clue," Arthur heard him saying as he
came back from what he thought had been a minute's doze, "and saved me a
year's search, not to mention the money I could have made."

"I'll tell you about it some other time," said Arthur with a yawn, as he
lit a fresh cigar. "Ask madam to step in here, will you. I must warn her
in a wholesome way."

"I think she is entertaining a friend," Curran said, hinting plainly at
a surprise.