Mr. Carr looked dubious.

"You can make some excuse for my presence."

"It's not that. I'm thinking if you let slip a word—"

"Is it likely?"

"Inadvertently, I mean."

"There's no fear. You have not mentioned my name to him?"

"I retort in your own words—Is it likely? He does not know why he is being employed or what I want with the man I wish traced. At present he is working, as far as that goes, in the dark. I might have put him on a false scent, just as cleverly and unsuspiciously as I dare say he could put me; but I've not done it. What's the matter with you to-day, Hartledon? You look ill."

"I only look what I am, then," was the answer. "But I'm no worse than usual. I'd rather be transported—I'd rather be hanged, for that matter—than lead the life of misery I am leading. At times I feel inclined to give in, but then comes the thought of Maude."


CHAPTER XXIV.