of this latest insult and horror.  In the meantime, I must get away as quickly as possible from Diana’s Grove.  In the morning I shall go up to town, where I shall remain for a week—­I cannot stay longer, as business affairs demand my presence here.  I think, however, that a week in the rush of busy London, surrounded with multitudes of commonplace people, will help to soften—­I cannot expect total obliteration—­the terrible images of the bygone night.  When I can sleep easily—­which will be, I hope, after a day or two—­I shall be fit to return home and take up again the burden which will, I suppose, always be with me.

“I shall be most happy to see you on my return—­or earlier, if my good fortune sends you on any errand to London.  I shall stay at the Mayfair Hotel.  In that busy spot we may forget some of the dangers and horrors we have shared together.  Adieu, and thank you, again and again, for all your kindness and consideration to me.

   “ARABELLA MARSH.”

Adam was surprised by this effusive epistle, but he determined to say nothing of it to Sir Nathaniel until he should have thought it well over.  When Adam met Sir Nathaniel at breakfast, he was glad that he had taken time to turn things over in his mind.  The result had been that not only was he familiar with the facts in all their bearings, but he had already so far differentiated them that he was able to arrange them in his own mind according to their values.  Breakfast had been a silent function, so it did not interfere in any way with the process of thought.

So soon as the door was closed, Sir Nathaniel began: 

“I see, Adam, that something has occurred, and that you have much to tell me.”

“That is so, sir.  I suppose I had better begin by telling you all I know—­all that has happened since I left you yesterday?”

Accordingly Adam gave him details of all that had happened during the previous evening.  He confined himself rigidly to the narration of circumstances, taking care not to colour events by any comment of his own, or any opinion of the meaning of things which he did not fully understand.  At first, Sir Nathaniel seemed disposed to ask questions, but shortly gave this up when he recognised that the narration was concise and self-explanatory.  Thenceforth, he contented himself with quick looks and glances, easily interpreted, or by some acquiescent motions of his hands, when such could be convenient, to emphasise his idea of the correctness of any inference.  Until Adam ceased speaking, having evidently come to an end of what he had to say with regard to this section of his story, the elder man made no comment whatever.  Even when Adam took from his pocket Lady Arabella’s letter, with the manifest intention of reading it, he did not make any comment.  Finally, when Adam folded up the letter and put it, in its envelope, back in his pocket, as an intimation that he had now quite finished, the old diplomatist carefully made a few notes in his pocket-book.