In the murderer’s heart there was no real remorse for the crime which he had committed.

“Bah! why did the fool get in my way?” was the first mental comment which he made when he caught sight of Lambert’s body.

Then with a final shrug of the shoulders he dismissed pity, horror or remorse, entirely from his thoughts.

What he now did was to raise the smith’s body from the ground and to strip it of its clothing.  ’Twas a grim task, on which his chroniclers have never cared to dwell.  His purpose was fixed.  He had planned and thought it all out minutely, and he was surely not the man to flinch at the execution of a project once he had conceived it.

The death of Adam Lambert should serve a double purpose:  the silencing of an avowed enemy and the wiping out of the personality of Prince Amede d’Orleans.

The latter was as important as the first.  It would facilitate the realizing of the fortune and, above all, clear the way for Sir Marmaduke’s future life.

Therefore, however gruesome the task, which was necessary in order to attain that great goal, the schemer accomplished it, with set teeth and an unwavering hand.

What he did do on that lonely fog-ridden beach and in the silence of that dank and misty night, was to dress up the body of Adam Lambert, the smith, in the fantastic clothing of Prince Amede d’Orleans:  the red cloth doublet, the lace collars and cuffs, the bunches of ribbon at knee and waist, and the black silk shade over the left eye.  All he omitted were the perruque and the false mustache.

Having accomplished this work, he himself donned the clothes of Adam Lambert.

This part of his task being done, he had to rest for a while.  ’Tis no easy matter to undress and redress an inert mass.

The smith, dressed in the elaborate accouterments of the mysterious French prince, now lay face upwards on the sand.

The tide was rapidly setting in.  In less than half an hour it would reach this portion of the beach.

Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse, however, had not yet accomplished all that he meant to do.  He knew that the sea-waves had a habit of returning that which they took away.  Therefore, his purpose was not fully accomplished when he had dressed the dead smith in the clothes of the Orleans prince.  Else had he wished it, he could have consigned his victim to the tide.

But Adam—­dead—­had now to play a part in the grim comedy which Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse had designed for his own safety, and the more assured success of all his frauds and plans.

Therefore, after a brief rest, the murderer set to work again.  A more grim task yet! one from which of a truth more than one evil-doer would recoil.

Not so this bold schemer, this mad worshiper of money and of self.  Everything! anything for the safety of Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse, for the peaceful possession of L500,000.