I must leave England to-night. Sampans with fish and fruit and vegetables swarmed about, while overhead gulls wheeled and swooped and circled. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. But Jack speedily burst it open with the iron bar. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. What would you? I cannot fight them all.
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