ned in England."

"Felt safe?" echoed the officer suspiciously.

His host nodded and told the man to take a seat again. Then, without
wasting further time, he related the real truth about the forged letter.
Darby listened to the recital in amazement and shook his head sadly over
the delinquency of the late Lord Garvington.

"Well! Well!" said the inspector staring, "to think as a nobleman born
and bred should act in this way."

"Why shouldn't a nobleman be wicked as well as the grocer?" said Lambert
impatiently, "and according to the socialistic press all the evil of
humanity is to be found in aristocratic circles. However, you know the
exact truth, Mr. Inspector, and I have confided to you the secret which
concerns the honor of my family. You won't abuse my confidence."

Darby rose and extended his hand. "You may be sure of that, my lord.
What you have told me will never be repeated. Everything in connection
with this matter is finished, and you will hear no more about it."

"I'm glad and thankful," said the other, again drawing a breath of
relief, "and to show my appreciation of your services, Darby, I shall
send you a substantial check."

"Oh, my lord, I couldn't take it. I only did my duty."

"I think you did a great deal more than that," answered the new Lord
Garvington dryly, "and had you acted entirely on the evidence you
gathered together, and especially on the confession of that miserable
woman, you might have made public much that I would prefer to keep
private. Take the money from a friend, Darby, and as a mark of esteem
for a man."

"Thank you, my lord," replied the inspector straightly, "I don't deny
but what my conscience and my duty to the Government will allow me to
take it since you put it in that way. And as I am not a rich man the
money will be welcome. Thank you!"

With a warm hand-shake the inspector took his departure and Noel offered
up a silent prayer of thankfulness to God that things had turned out so
admirably. His shifty cousin was now dead and there was no longer any
danger that the honor of the family, for which so much had been
sacrificed, both by himself and Agnes, would be smirched. The young man
regretted the death of Mother Cockleshell, who had been so well disposed
toward his wife and himself, but he rejoiced that Chaldea had left
England under the guardianship of Kara, as henceforth--if he knew
anything of the dwarf's jealous disposition--the girl would trouble him
no mor