into the canal. It was a nasty dark spot
just underneath the bridge. I expect I was stunned for a moment,
but it was only for a moment. I came to long before I choked, and when I
remembered your grip upon my throat, I decided I was safer where I was. I
could swim like a duck, you know, and though it was filthy water I took a
long dive. When I came up again--gad, what disgusting water it was!--you
were tearing off like a creature possessed. That's the true history of
our little fracas."

"But afterwards?" Philip asked wonderingly. "What happened afterwards?"

"You just tell them all about it," Beatrice ordered him sternly. "Go on,
Douglas."

"Well, you see," Douglas Romilly continued, "I was just going to scramble
out on to the bank when my brain began to work, and I swam slowly along
instead. You see, just then I was in a devil of a mess. I'd spent a lot
of money, and though I'd kept the credit of the firm good, I knew that
the business was bust, and the one thing I was anxious about was to get
off to America without being stopped. I've explained this all to
Beatrice, and why I didn't send for her before. Anyway, I swam along
until I met with an old barge. I climbed in and got two of the choicest
blackguards you ever saw to let me spend an hour or two in their filthy
cabin and to keep their mouths closed about it. Fortunately, I had
another pocketbook, with sufficient to satisfy them and keep me going.
Then I borrowed some clothes and came out to America, steerage. I had no
difficulty in getting my money, as I had a couple of pals in Lynn whom I
had fixed things up with before I started. They came and identified me as
Merton Ware, and we all three started in business together as the Ford
Boot and Shoe Manufacturing Company at Lynn in Massachusetts.
Incidentally, we've done all right. Heaps more, of course, but that's the
pith of it. As for the body that was fished out of the canal, if you make
enquiries, you'll find there was a tramp missing, a month or so before."

Elizabeth had begun to sob quietly. Philip, who was holding her tenderly
in his arms, whispered unheard things into her ears. It was Beatrice who
remained in charge of the situation.

"So now, Mr. Dane," she jeered, "what about your little errand? I hope
this will be a lesson to you not to come meddling in other people's
affairs."

Dane turned to the man who had brought this bombshell into their midst.

"Do you swear that you are Douglas Romilly?" he