"I beg your pardon," whispered the red-haired man in husky tones, "but could you tell me the whereabouts of Mortality-lane?"

"It is close at hand," replied Frank readily. "I'll take you there if you like."

"Thank you, no," said the other hurriedly; "just tell me where----"

"I can't explain," answered Darrel, cutting him short. "You would not be able to find it in this network of streets. If you don't trust me, ask that policeman to guide you."

The man winced and drew a quick breath, then looked again at Frank. "You are an educated man," said he--"a gentleman."

"I might say the same of you," rejoined Darrel, who had noted the refined accent of the man, "but that is neither here nor there. Mortality-lane is to the left. Good-night, sir."

"Stay, stay!" cried the red-headed man as Darrel moved away. "I trust you; please guide me to the place."

Ever sparing of words, Frank nodded and turned down a side street, followed by his companion, who walked beside him in a cat-like way. In the narrow street there was but scant light, as the gas lamps were few and far between; still, the luminosity of the summer night revealed to Darrel that his companion kept at a respectful distance and had his right hand in the breast of his seedy coat. Evidently he was nervous of his guide, and feared a sudden assault in some dark corner. From this obvious fear Darrel concluded that his companion was not a criminal; and, moreover, carried some valuables about him which he dreaded might be stolen. On further reflection, the novelist decided that the red-headed man was a disguised gentleman, who was venturing into strange places and stranger company on some disreputable errand. Darrel wondered what his purpose might be, but did not think it advisable to ask questions; nor, as he mentally admitted, had he the right to do so.

The two men walked onward in silence. The one a little in advance of the other. Turning down one street, crossing a second, walking up a third, they at length emerged into a small open space in which stood three four-wheeled cabs. Opposite the first of these, on the further side of the square, as it might be called, there was a narrow alley, and to this Darrel pointed.

"Yonder is Mortality-lane," he said, "but it is not a very safe place for a single person. If you like, I'll go down----"