er once touched his eyelids-his most blessed respite had been a few moments of deadly stupor, when the red fires had ceased to play before his eyes, and the old man's upturned f

nfamiliar clothes, and a doubled-up newspaper was in his pockets. It was all true then, the flight across the moor, the strange ride to town, the wild exhilaration of spirits, and the dull, crushing blow. The girl with the roses-ah, she had been with him-had brought him here. He remembered the look in her eyes when she had refused his m

ll, perhaps the boldest course was the safest. He would go and say, "Here am I, Douglas Guest-what do you want with me? It is true that I took mone

of whom he felt more than half inclined to ask the way to the nearest police-station, then walked up into the square, where before him hung a red lamp from a tall, red brick house with barred windows. He peered in at the window. A fat sergeant was sitting at the table yawning, the walls were hung with police bills, the room itself was the quintess

the shutter from in front of his shop. He looked round as Douglas appeare

us a hand, guvn

ame from a distance, and whose laziness was most phenomenal. After this morning, however, his services would be dispensed with. For once he had gone a l

laughe

said, "but if I could beg a piece o

nd hastened into the sh

rked, taking a tin from the door handle, "

e milk very much i

erical, but stronger at every mouthfu

ash?" he

red. After all, it was

he night far behind him. The cold water had been like a sweet, keen tonic to him. The cobwebs had gone from his brain. Memory ha

ndsome building, and being early had his choice of the great dailies, neatly cut and arranged upon rollers for him. One by one he read them through with feverish interest, and when he set them down he laughed softly to himself. There was not one of them whi

gh his veins. His condition of absolute poverty had not yet lost the flavour of novelty. He even laughed as he realised that again he was hungry and must rely upon chance for a meal. This time there was no fat confectioner to play the good Samaritan. But by chance he passed a pawnbroker's shop, and with a little cry of triumph he dra

's Palace, up St. James's Street and into Piccadilly. For a while he forgot his hunger. There was so much that was marvellous, so much to admire. Burlington House was pointed out by a friendly

nly spend about two shillings, and I want the best I can

iceman

r two bob, including a quarter flask of wine. I've a brother-in-law as keeps the books there, and I have it from him, sir, that there ain't such value for money in the whole country. And there's this about it, sir," he added confidentially

eating-house, good of its sort, and with an excellent connection of lighthearted but impecunious foreigners, who made up with the lightness of their spirits for the emptiness of their purses. To Douglas, whose whole upbringing and subsequent life had been amongst the dreariest of surroundings, there was something about it all peculiarly fascinating. The air of pleasant abandonment, the subtle aroma of gaiety allied with irresponsibility, the strange food and wine, well cooked and stimulating, delighted him. His sole desire

morn

A newcomer had taken the