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a si ibi in mt I . By h. CONAN DOYLE. PAET ONE [Being a reprint frrrm the reminiscences of John H. Watson, M. D., late of the army medical department.] Once on the high road, they made rapid progress. Only once did they meet any one, and then they managed to slip into a field and so avoid recognition. Before reaching the town the hunter branched away into a rugged and nar row footpath which led into the moun tains. Two dark, jagged peaks loomed above them through the darkness, and the defile which led between them was the Eagle canyon, in which the horses were awaiting them. With unerring instinct Jefferson Flope picked his way among the great bowlders and along the bed of a dried up water course until he came to the retired corner, screened with rocks, where the faithful animals had been picketed. The girl was placed upon the mule, and old Ferrier upon one of the horses, with his money bag, while Jefferson Hope led the other along the precipitous and dangerous paths. It was a bewildering route for any one who was not accustomed to face nature in her wildest moods On the one side a great crag towered up 1,000 feet or more, black, stern and menac ing, with long basaltic columns upon his rugged surface like the ribs of some petrified monster. On the other hand a wild chaos of bowlders and debris made all advance impossible. Between the two and the irregular track, so nar row in places that they had to travel in Indian silo and so rough that only practiced riders could have traversed it at all. Yet in spite of all dangers and difficulties the hearts of the fugitives were light within them, for every step Increased the distance between them and the terrible despotism from which they were flying. They soon had a proof, however, tl .t they were still within the jurisdiction of the saints. They had reached the very wildest and most desolate portion of the pass when the girl gave a startled cry and pointed upward. On a rock which overlooked the track, showing out dark and plain against the sky, there stood a solitary sentinel. He saw them as soon as they perceived him, and his military challenge of “Who goes there?’’ rang through the silent ra vine. “Travelers for Nevada,” said Jeffer son Hope, with his hand upon the rifle which hung by his saddle. They could see the lonely watcher fingering his gun and peering down at them as if dissatisfied at their reply. \ “By whose permission?” he asked. “The holy four, ” answered Ferrier. His Mormon experiences had taught him that that was the highest authori ty to which he could refer. “Nine from seven, ” cried the senti nel. “Seven from five, ” returned Jefferson Hope promptly, remembering the coun tersign which be had heard in the gar den. “Pass, and the Lord go with you,” said the voice from above. Beyond this post the path broadened out, and the horses were able to break into a trot. Looking back, they could see the solitary watcher leaning upon his gun and knew that they had passed the out lying post of the chosen people, and that freedom lay before them. CHAPTER V. All night their course lay through intricate defiles and over irregular and rock strewn paths. More than once they lost their way, but Hope’s intimate knowledge of the mountains enabled them to regain the track once more. When morning broke, a scene of mar velous though savage beauty lay before them. In every direction the great snow capped peaks hemmed them in, peep ing over each other’s shoulders to the far horizon. So steep were the rocky banks on either side of them that the larch and the pine seemed to be sus pended over their heads and to need only a gust of wind to come hurling down upon them. Nor was the fear en tirely an illusion, for the barren valley was thickly strewn with trees and bowlders which had fallen in a similar manner. Even as they passed a great rock came thundering down, with a hoarse rattle which woke the echoes in the silent gorges and startled the weary horses into a gallop. As the sun rose slowly above the east ern horizon the caps of the great moun tains lit up one after the other like lamps at a festival until they were all ruddy and glowing. The magnificent Spectacle cheered the hearts of the three fugitives and gave them fresh energy. At a wild torrent which swept out of a ravine they called a halt and watered their horses, while they partook of a hasty breakfast. Lucy and her father would fain have rested longer, but Jef ferson Hope was inexorable. “They will be upon our track by this time,” he said. “Everything depends upon our speed. Once safe in Carson, we may rest for the remainder of our lives. ” During the whole of that day they struggled on through the defiles, and by evening they calculated that they were more than 30 miles from their en emies. At nighttime they chose the base of a beetling crag where the rocks offered some protection from the chill wind, and there, huddled together for warmth, they enjoyed a few hours’ sleep. Before daybreak, however, they were up and on their way once more. They had seen no signs of any pursuers, ami Jefferson Hope began to think they were fairly out of the reach of the ter rible organization whose enmity they had incurred. He little knew how far that iron grasp could reach, or bow soon it was to close upon them and crush them. About the middle of the second day of their flight their scanty store of pro visions began to run cut This gave the .»ltl# VDeiUslU; no .• «. • vi, 10? there was game to be Lad among the mountains, and he had frequently be fore had to depend upon bis rifle for the needs of life. Choosing a sheltered nook, he piled together a few dry branches and made a blazing fire at which his companions might warm themselves, for they were now nearly 5,000 feet above the sea level and the air was bit ter and keen. Having tethered the horses and bade Lucy adieu, he threw his gun over his shoulder and set out in search of whatever chance might throw in his way. Looking back, he saw the old man and the young girl crouching over the blazing fire, while the three an imals stood motionless in the back ground. Then the intervening rocks hid them from his view. Ho walked for a couple of miles through one ravine after another with out s access, though from the marks upon the bark of the trees and other in dications he judged that there were numerous bears in the vicinity. At last after two or three hours’ fruitless search, he was thinking of turning back in despair when, casting his eyes up ward, ho saw a sight which sent a thrill of pleasure through his heart. On the edge cf a jutting pinnacle 30<» or 400 feet above him there stood a creature somewhat resembling a sheep in ap pearance, but armed with a pair of gigantic horns. The bighorn—for so it is ca led—was acting probably as a guard .an over a flock which were invis ible to tho hunter, but fortunately it was heading in the opposite direction and had not perceived him. Lying on his back, he rested his rifle upon a rock and took a long and steady aim before drawing the trigger. Tho animal sprang into tho air, tottere 1 for a moment upon tho edge of the precipice and then came crashing down into the valley be neath. The creature was too unwieldy to lift, so the hunter contented himself with cutting away one haunch and part of the flank. With this trophy over his shoulder he hastened to retrace his steps, for the evening was already draw ing in. He had hardly started, however before he realized the difficulty which faced him. In his eagerness he had wandered far past the ravines which were known to him, and it was no easy matter to pick out the path which he had taken. Tho valley in which he found himself divider! anil subdivided into many gorges Which were so like tach other that it was impossible to dis tinguish one from the other. He follow ed one for a mile or more until he camo to a mountain torrent which he was sure that he had never seen before. Con vinced that he had taken the wrong turn, he tried another, but with the same result. Night was coming on rap idly, and it was alinost dark before ho nt last found himself in a defilo which was familiar to him. Even then it was no easy matter to keep to the right track, for the moon had not yet risen, and tho high cliffs on either side made tho ob scurity more profound. Weighed down with his burden and weary from his ex ertions, he stumbled along, keeping up his heart with the reflection that every step brought him nearer to Lucy, and that he carried with him enough to in sure them food for the remainder of their journey. Ho had now come to the mouth of the very defilo in which ho had left them. Even in the darkness he could recognize the outlines of the cliffs which bounded it. They must, ho reflected, bo awaiting him anxiously, for he had been absent nearly five hours. In the gladness of his heart he put his hands to his mouth and made the glen re-echo to a loud halloo as a signal that ho was coming. He paused and listened for an answer. None came save his own cry, which clattered up the dreary, silent ravines and was borne back to his oars in countless repetitions. Again he shouted, even louder than before, and again no whisper came back from the friends whom he had left such a short time ago. A vague, nameless dread came over him, and he hurried onward frantically, dropping the precious food in his agita tion. W T hen he turned the corner, he came full in sight of the spot where the fire had been lit. There was still a glowing pile of wood ashes there, but it had evi dently not been tended since his depar ture. Tho same dead silence still reigned all around. With his fears all changed to convictions, he hurried on. There was no living creature near tho remains of the fire—animals, man, maiden, all were gone. It was only too clear that some sudden and terrible disaster had occurred during his absence—a disaster which embraced them all and yet had left no traces behind it. Bewildered and stunned by this blow, Jefferson Hope felt his head spin round and had to lean upon his rifle to save himself from falling. Ho was essential ly a man of action, however, and speed ily recovered his temporary impotence. Seizing a half consumed piece of wood from the smoldering fire, he blew it into a flame and proceeded with its help to examine tho little camp. The ground was all stamped down by the feet of horses, showing that a large party of mounted men had overtaken the fugi tives, and tho direction of their tracks proved that they bad afterward turned back to Salt Lake City. Had they car ried back both of his companions with them? Jefferson Hope had almost per suaded himself that they must have done so when his eye fell upon an ob ject which made every nerve of his body tingle within him. A little way on one side of the camp was a low lying heap of reddish soil which had assuredly not been there before. There was no mis taking it for anything but a newly dug grave. As the young hunter approached it he perceived that a stick had been planted on it, with a sheet of paper stuck i a the cleft fork of it. The in script m upon the paper was brief, but to the point: : JOHN FEKRIA.R, : Formerly oir Salt Lake City, : • Died Aug. 4, 1880. I man, ..c had left so short a time before, was gone then, and this was all his epitaph. Jef ferson Hope looked wildly around to see if there was a second grave, but there was no sign of one. Lucy had been car ried by their terrible pursuers to fulfill her original destiny by becoming one of the harem of the elder’s son. As the young fellow realized the certainty of her fate and his own powerlessness to prevent it he wished that he, too, was lying with tho old farmer in his last silent resting place. Again, however, his active spirit shook off the lethargy which springs from despair. If there was nothing else left to him, he could at least devote his life to revenge. With indomitable pa tience and perseverance Jefferson Hope possessed also a power of sustained vin dictiveness, which be may have learned from the Indians among whom he had ■ lived. As he stood by tho desolate fire he felt that the only one thing which could assuage his grief would bo thor ough and complete retribution brought by his own hand upon his enemies. His strong will and untiring energy should, he determined, be devoted to that one end. With a grim, white face he re traced his steps to where he had dropped the food, and having stirred up the , smoldering fire he cooked enough to last him for a few days. This ho made up I into a bundle, and tired as he was he set himself to walk back through tho Inountains upon the track of the aveng ing angels. For five days he toiled, footsore and weary, through the defiles which he had already traversed on horseback. At night ho flung himself down among tho rocks and snatched a few’ hours of sleep, but before daybreak he was always well on his way. On the sixth day he reached Eagle canyon, from w’hich they had commenc ed their ill fated flight. Thence he could look down upon the home of the saints. Worn and exhausted, he leaned Upon his rifle and shook his gaunt hand fiercely ?.t the silent, widespread city beneath him. As he looked at it he ob served that there were flags in some of the principal streets and other signs of festivity. He Was still speculating as towhat this might mean when ho heard the clatter of horse’s hoofs and saw a taounted man riding toward him. As he Approached he recognized M as a Mor inon named Cowper, to whom he had tendered services at different times. He therefore accosted him when he got up to him, with the object of finding out What Lucy Ferrier’s fate had been. “I am Jefferson Hope,” ho said. “You remember me?” The Mormon looked at him with un disguised astonishment. Indeed it was difficult to recognize in this tattered, unkempt wanderer with ghastly white face and fierce wild eyes the spruce young hunter of former days. Having, however, at last satisfied himself as to his identity, the man’s surprise changed to consternation. “You are mad to come here,” he cried. “It is as much as my own life is worth to be seen talking with you. There is a warrant against you from the holy four for assisting the Ferriers away. ” “I don’t fear them or their warrant, ” Hope said earnestly. “You must know something of this matter, Cowper. I conjure you by everything you hold dear to answer a few questions. We have always been friends. For God’s sake, don’t refuse to answer me. ” “What is it?” the Mormon asked un easily. “Be quick. The very rocks have ears and the trees eyes. ” “What has become of Lucy Ferrier?” “She was married yesterday to young Drebber. Hold up, man; hold up! You have no life left in you. ” “Don’t mind me,” said Hope faintly. He was white to the very lips and had sunk down on the stone against which ho had been leaning. “Married, you say?” “Married yesterday. That’s what those flags are for on the Endowment house. There were some words between young Drebber and young Stangerson as to which was to have her. They’d both been in the party that followed them, and Stangerson had shot her fa ther, which seemed to give him the best claim, but when they argued it out ir council Drebber’s party was tbe stron ger, so the prophet gave herover to him. No one won’t have her very long, for I saw death in her face yesterday. She ir more like a ghost than a woman. Are you off, then?” “Yes, I’m off,” said Jefferson Hope, who had risen from his seat. His face might have been chiseled out of marble, so hard and so set was its expression, while his eyes glowed with a baleful light. f “Where are you going?” “Never mind,” he answered, and slinging his weapon over his shoulder strode off down the gorge and so away into the heart of the mountains to the haunts of the wild beasts. Among them all there was none so fierce and danger ous as himself. The prediction of the Mormon was only too well fulfilled. Whether it was the terrible death cf her father or the effects of thehatefulmarriagointowhich she had been forced, poor Lucy never held up her head again, but pined away and died within a month. Her sottish husband, who had married her princi pally for the sake of John Ferrier’s property, did not affect any great grief at his bereavement, but his other wives mourned over her and sat up with her the night before the burial, as is the Mormon custom. They were grouped around the bier in the early hours of the morning, when, to their inexpressi ble fear and astonishment, the door was flung open, and a savage looking, weather beaten man in tattered gar ments strode into the room. Withont a glance or a word to the cowering women, he walked up to the white, silent figure which had once con tained the pure soul of Lucy Ferrier. Stooping over her, be pressed his lips reverently to her cold forehead, and then snatching up her hand he took i the wedding ring from her finger. “S’ snu.ixmsba buried in tn at, be cried, with a tierce snarl, and L. fore cn alarm could be raised sprang down tho stairs and was gone. So strange and so brief was the episode that the watchers might have found it hard to believe it them selves or persuade other people of it had it not been for the undeniable fact that the circlet cf gold Which marked her as having been a bride had disap peared. For some months Jefferson Hope lin gered among the mountains, lending a strange, wild life an I nursing in his heart the fierce desire for vengeance which possessed him. Tales were told in the city of the weird figure which was seen prowling about the suburbs, and which haunted the lonely mountain gorges. Once a bullet whistled through Stangerson’s window and flattened itself upon the wall within a foot of him. On another occasion as Drebbet passed under a cliff a great bowlder crashed down on him, and he only es caped a terrible death by throwing him self upon his face. The two young Mor mons Were not long in discovering the reason of these attempts upon their lives and led repeated expeditions into the mountains in tho hope of capturing or killing their enemy, but always with out success. Then they adopted the pre caution of never going out alone or after nightfall and of having their houses guarded. After a time they were able to relax these measures, for noth ing was either heard or seen of (heir op ponent, and they hoped that time had cooled bis vindictiveness. Far from doing so, it had, if any thing, augmented it. Tho hunter’s mind was of a hard, unyielding nature, and tho predominant idea of revenge bad taken such complete possession of it that there was no room for any other emotion. He was, however, above all things, practical. He soon realized that even his iron constitution could not stand the incessant strain which ho was putting upon it. Exposure and want of wholesome food were wearing him out. If be died like a dog among the moun tains, what was to become of his, re venge then? And yet such a death was sure to bvertake hirn if ho persisted. Ho felt that that was to play his enemy’s game, so he reluctantly returned to tho old Nevada mines, there to recruit his health and to amass money enough to allow him to pursue his object without privatioii. His intention had been to be absent a year at tho most, but a combination of unforeseen circumstances prevented his leaving the mines for nearly five. At the end of that time, however, his memory of his wrongs and his cravings for revenge were quite as keen as on that memorable night when he had stood by John Ferrier’s grave. Disguis ed and under an assumed name, he re turned to Salt Lake City, careless what became of his own life as long as he ob tained what he knew to be justice. There he found evil tidings awaiting him. There had been a schism among the chosen people a few months before, some of the younger members having rebelled against tho authority of the elders, and the result had been the se cession cf a certain number of the mal contents, who had left Utah and become, gentiles. Among these had been Dreb ber and Stangerson, and no one knew whither they bad gone. Rumor reported that Drebber had managed to convert a large part of his property into money, and that he had departed a wealthy man, while Stangerson was compare tively poor. There was no clew at all, however, as to their whereabouts. Many a man, however vindictive, would have abandoned all thotight oi revenge in the face cf such a difficulty, but Jefferson Hope never faltered for a moment. With the small competence be possessed, eked out by such employ ment as he could pick up, lie traveled from town to town through the United States in quest of his enemies. Year passed into year, his black hair turned grizzled, but still ho wandered on —a human bloodhound, with, his mind wholly set upon the one object upon W’hich he had devoted Ins life. At last his perseverance was rewarded. It was but a glance of a face in a window, but that one glance told him that Cleve land, in Ohio, possessed the man whom he was in pursuit of. He returned to his miserable lodgings with his plan of vengeance all arranged. It chanced, however, that Drebber, looking from his window, had recog nized the vagrant in the street and had read murder in his eyes. He hurried before a justice of the peace, accompa nied by Stangerson, who had become his private secretary, and represented to him that they were in danger of their lives from the jealousy and hatred of an eld rival. That evening Jefferson Hope was taken into custody, and not being able to find sureties was detained some weeks. When at last he was liber ated, it was only to find that Drebber’s house was deserted, and that he and his secretary had departed for Europe. Again the avenger had been foiled, and again his concentrated hatred urged him to continue the pursuit. Funds were wanting, however, and for some time he had to return to work, saving every dollar for his approaching journey. At last, having collected cnc ugh to keep life in him, he departed for Europe and tracked his enemies from city to city, working his way in any menial capaci ty, but never overtaking the fugitives. When he reached St. Petersburg, they had departed for Paris, and when he fol lowed them there he learned that they had just set off for Copenhagen. At the Danish capital he was again a few days late, for they had journeyed on to Lon don, where he at last succeeded in run ning them to earth. As to what occur red there, we cannot do b tt r than quote the old hunter’s oWn account, as duly recorded in Dr. Watson’s journal, to which we are already under such ob ligations. CHAPTER VL Our prisoner's furious resistance did ! cot apparently indicate any ferocity in his disposition toward ourselves, for on finding himself powerless he smiled.in a.: affable manner and expressed his hopes that he had net hurt any of ns in the scuffle. “I guess you’re going to take me to the police station, ” he re marked to Sherlock Holmes. “My cab’s at the door. If you’ll loose my legs, I’ll walk down to it. I’m not so light to lift as I used to be. ” Gregson and Lestrade exchanged glances as if they thought this proposi tion rather a bold one, but Holmes at cuce took the prisonci at his word and loosened the towel which ho had bound round his ankles. He rose and stretched his legs, as though to assure himself that they were free once more. I remember that I thought to myself as I eyed him that I had seldom seen a more powerfully built man, and bis dark, sunburned face bore an expression of determination and energy which was as formidable as his personal strength. “If there’s a vacant place for a chief Os tho police, I reckon you are the man for it, ’ ’ he said, gazing with undisguised admiration at my fellow lodger. “The way you kept on my trail was a cau tion. ” “You had better come with me, ” said Holmes to the two detectives. “I can drive you, ” said Lestrade. “Good! and Gregson can come inside with me. You, too, doctor. You have taken an interest in the case and may as well stick to us. ’' I assented gladly, and we all descend cd together. Our prisoner made no at tempt to escape, but stepped calmly into tho cab which had been his, and we fol lowed him. Lestrade mounted the box, whipped up the horse and brought us in a very short time to our destination Wo were ushered into a small chamber, where a police inspector noted down our prisoner’s name and tho names of the meh with whose murder ho had been charged. The official was a white faced, unemotional man, who went through his duties in dull, mechanical way “The prisoner Will be put before the magistrates in the course of tho week, ” he said. “In the meantime, Mr. Joffer son Lope, have you anything that you wish to say? I must warn you that your words will be taken down and may be used against you. ” “I’ve got a good deal to say,” our prisoner said slowly. “1 want to tell fan gentlemen all about it. ” “Hadn’t you better reserve that for vour trial?” asked the inspector. “I may never be tried, ” he answer ed. “You needn’t look startled. It isn’t suicide I am thinking of. Are you a doctor?” He turned his fierce, dark eyes upon me as he asked this last question. “Yes, I am,” I answered. ‘Then pur your hand here,” he said, with a smile, motioning with his man acled wrists toward his chest. 1 did so and became at once con scious of an extraordinary throbbing and commotion which was going on in side. The walls of his chest seemed to thrill and quiver as a frail building would do inside when some powerful engine was at work In the silence of the room 1 could hear a dull humming and buzzing noise which proceeded from tho same source. “Why,” 1 cried, “you have an aortic aneurism I” “That’s what they call it,” he said placidly’ “1 went to a doctor last week about it, and he told me that it was bound to burst before many.days passed. It has been getting worse for years. I got it from overexposure and underfeeding among the Salt Lake mountains. I’ve done my work now, and I don’t care how soon 1 go, but I should like to leave some account of the business be hind me I don’t want to be remember ed as a common cutthroat. ” The inspector and the two detectives had a hurried discussion as to the ad visability of allowing him to tell his story “Do you consider, doctor, that there is immediate danger?” the former asked. “Most certainly there is, ” 1 answer ed “In that case it is clearly our duty, in the interests of justice, to take his statement,” said the inspector. “You are at liberty, sir, to give your account, which 1 again warn you will bo taken down. ” “LU sit down, with your leave,’’ the prisoner said, suiting the action to the word. “This aneurism of wine makes me easily tired, and the tussle we had ha’f an hour ago haft not mended mat ters. Lin on the brink of the grave, and lam not likely to lie to you. Every word 1 say is the absolute truth, and how you use it is a matter of no conse quence to me. ” With these words, Jefferson Hope leaned back in his chair and began tho following remarkable statement. He spoko in a calm and methodical man ner. as though the events which he nar rated were commonplace enough. I can vouch for the accuracy of the subjoined account, for 1 have had access to Les trado’s notebook, in which the prisoner’s words were taken down exactly as they were uttered. “It don’t much matter to you why I hated these men, ”he said. “It’s enough that they were guilty of the death of two human beings—a father and a daughter—and that they had therefore forfeited their own lives. After the lapse of ti me that has passed since their crime, it was impossible forme to secure a con vietton against them in any court. I knew cf their guilt, though, and 1 de termined that 1 should be judge, jury and executioner all rolled into one. Yon cl have done the same, if you have any manhood in yon, if you had been in n:y place “That girl that I spoke of was to have married me 2b vears ago. She was forced into marrying that same Drebber and broke her heart over it. 1 took the mar riage ring from-her dead finger, and J vowed that his dying eyes should lest upon that very ring, and that his last thoughts should be of the crime for which he was punished. I have carried it about with me and have followed him and his accomplice over two conti nents until I caught them. They thought to tire me out, but they could not do it. If 1 die tomorrow, is likely enough, I die knowing that my work in this world is done, and well done They have perished, and all tv my hand. There is nothing left for me to hope for or to desire. “They were rich and I was poor, so that it was no easy matter for me to follow them. When 1 got to London my pocket was about empty, and I found that 1 must turn my hand to something for my living Driving and riding are as natural to me as walking, so 1 ap plied at a cab owner's office and soon got employment. 1 was to bring a cer tain sum a week to the owner, and what ever was over that 1 might keep for my self. There was seldom much over, but 1 managed to scrape along somehow Tho hardest job was.to learn my way. about, for 1 reckon that of all the mazes that ever were contrived this city is tho most confusing 1 had a map beside me, though, and when once 1. spotted the principal hotels and stations 1 got on pretty well. “It was some time before I found out where iny two gentlemen were living, but 1 inquired and inquired until at last 1 dropped across them. They were at a boarding house at Camberwell, over on the other side of the river When once 1 found them out, I knew that 1 had them at my mercy 1 had grown my beard, and there was ho chance of their recognizing me. I would dog them and follow them until 1 saw my oppor tunity 1 was determined that they should not escape me again. “They were very near doing it, for all that Go where they would about Lon don, I was always at their heels Some times 1 followed them on my cab and sometimes on foot, but the former was the best, for then they could not got away from mo. It was only early in tho morning or late fit night that I could earn anything, so that 1 began to get be hindhand with my employer - T~atrf'not j mind that, however, as loug as I could lay my hand upon tho men 1 wanted. . “They were very cunning, though. They must have thought that there was some chance of their being followed, for they would never go out alone and nev er after nightfall. During two weeks I drove behind them every day and never once saw them separate. Drabber him self was drunk half the time, but Stan gerson was not to be caught napping. I watched them late and early, but never saw the ghost of a chance, but I was not discouraged, for something told me that the hour had almost come. My only fear was that this thing in my chest might burst a little too soon and leave my work undone. “At last one evening I was driving up and down Torquay Terrace, as the street was called in which they boarded, when I saw a cab drive up to their door. Pres ently some luggage was brought out, and after a time Drebber and Stangerson followed it and drove off. I whipped up my horse and kept within sight of them, feeling ill at ease, for I feared that they Were going to shift their quarters. At Euston station they got out, and I left a boy to hold my horse and followed them on to the platform I heard them ask for the Liverpool train, and tbh guard answered that one IjaijiagLil!”'' l anil th would aii nll error Boshe hours. to be put out at that, but Drebber was rather pleased than otherwise. I got so close to them iti the bustle that 1 could hear ev ery word that passed between them. Drebber said that he had a little busi ness of his own to do, and that if the other would wait for him he would soon rejoin him. His companion remonstrated with him and reminded him that they had resolved to stick together Drebber answered that the matter was a delicate one, and that he must go alone. I could not catch what Stangerson said to that, but tho other burst out swearing and re minded him that he was nothing more than l;is paid servant, and that he must not presume to dictate to him. On that tho secretary gave it up as a bad job and simply bargained with him that if he missed the last train he should rejoin him at Halliday’s Private hotel, to which Drebber answered that he would be back on the platform before 11 and made his way out of the station. “The moment for which I had waited so long had at last come. I had my ene mies within my power. Together they could protect each other, but singly were at my mercy , I did not act, how ever, with undue precipitation. My plans were already, formed. There is no / satisfaction in vengeance unless the fender has time to realize who it is that strikes him, and why retribution has come upon him. I had my plans arranged by which 1 should have the opportunity of making the man who had wronged me understand that his old sin had found him out. It chanced that some days before a gentleman.who had been engaged in looking over some houses in the Brixton road bad dropped the key of one of them in my carriage. It was claimed that same evening and return ed, but in tbe interval I had taken a molding of it and had a duplicate con structed. By means of this I had access to at least one spot in this great city where I could rely upon being free from interruption. How to get Drebber to that house was the difficult problem which I had no>v to solve. “Ko walked down tho road and went into one or two liquor shops, staying for nearly half an hour in the last of them. When ho came out, bo staggered in his walk and was evidently pretty well cn. There was a hansom just in front of me, and he hailed it. I follow ed it ho close that tho nose cf my horse was within a yard of his driver the whole way We rattled across Waterloo bridge and through miles of streets, un til, to my astonishment, we found our selves back in the terrace in which he had boarded. 1 could not imagine what his intention was in returning there, but 1 went on and pulled up my cab a hun dred yards or so from tho botSo Ho entered it, and his hansom drove away. Give me a glass of water, if you please. My mouth gets dry with the talking.” 1 handed him the glass, and he drank it down. [TO BE CONTINUED.]