But the "ex-Moonshee" only smiled and politely bowed, while "Prince Djiddin" sternly marched with his prisoner, Jack Blunt, upstairs and then locked the doors of his apartments. It was an "imperium in imperio."

In the hall, he had turned and faced Andrew Fraser only to say: "I shall await here, sir, the orders of the civil and military authorities; yes, here, in my own room. The very moment that they take charge, I shall, however, leave your roof. But not until then! And for your future safety, I warn you to moderate your ignorant abuse."

There was no sleep in the house until the gray dawn at last straggled through the mists of night. And the sound of outcry and excited alarm long continued, for Professor Andrew Fraser and Janet Fairbarn were excitedly wailing over the easily detected work of the burglar, in the old pedant's study. The aged Scotsman ran up and down the hall, tearing his hair and bemoaning his lost manuscripts and papers. For, he dared not announce the loss of the stolen crown jewels!

The family coachman had already departed for Rozel Pier, to bring home the wounded Simpson, while a doctor, summoned by the messenger from St. Heliers, was led by Janet Fairbarn to the apartments of the heiress. Murray and Hardwicke rejoiced in secret over the recovery of the key to the whole deadlock—from Delhi to London! The game was now won!

At ten o'clock, a staff officer of General Wragge joined Major Hardwicke and Captain Murray in their room, while one of the terrible army of twelve policemen of an island populated with "three thousand cooks" watched over the "Banker's Folly," and another garrisoned the old martello tower, where Alan Hawke lay alone in the grim majesty of death. The fox-eyed American professor "invited himself" to breakfast with Professor Andrew Fraser and cheered the broken old man.

"Never mind, we will finish up the 'History of Thibet' together," he cried, "when these two swashbucklers are gone, and the house will be much quieter when the girl is married off and out of the way." But old Andrew Fraser refused to be comforted. He sternly forbade all communication with his ward and bitterly bewailed a further personal loss, which he dared not explain!

"There was a suspicious French fishing-boat lately seen knocking around Rozel," acutely said Alaric Hobbs. "We also found the bloody trail where they dragged their wounded away down to the beach. And so they are off on the sea, with your valuable plunder. No one knows the dead scoundrel up there."

"But we will finish the Thibet history, if I have to go out there myself and get the honest information." Whereat old Fraser feebly smiled and opened his heart to Alaric Hobbs at once. When a bustling country magistrate arrived to potter around, Andrew Fraser was astounded to see the General's aid-de-camp lead out the man whom the two officers had guarded, and send him off to St. Heliers under a military guard.

"Hold this man only as a suspicious person. There may be some mistake. They say he is known at Rozel Pier as an honest man," said the aide. "The real robbers seem to have escaped in the boat. The dying robber did not seem to know this person, who has undoubtedly borne a good character for a month past at the Jersey Arms as a lodger." It was true, and even the befuddled Simpson, on his questioning, only could falter that he had been attacked by three unknown footpads. He failed to make any charge against the mute Jack Blunt. "This man is a proper, decent fellow enough," kindly testified the old soldier.

In vain Andrew Fraser raved to the Magistrate, demanding that Major Hardwicke and Captain Murray should explain their past conduct. "I am directed by General Wragge to say that he will visit you, himself, officially, to-morrow, Professor Fraser, and he will have an important governmental communication for you. Until then, I desire these two gentlemen to be allowed to remain in your house. They will remove all their luggage this evening." And then, old Fraser, with a presage of coming trouble, shivered in a sullen silence. Conscience smote him, sorely.

"The lost jewels!" In fact, a handsomely appointed carriage and a van, in the afternoon, removed all of the effects of the two pseudo "orientals," who, half an hour after the carriage had arrived, appeared in their respective undress uniforms of the Royal Engineers and the Eighth Lancers, to the dismay of old Fraser—now affrighted at his dangerous position. There was gloom in the house now, for Miss Nadine Johnstone flatly refused to even see her guardian a single moment! And Simpson, alone, sat in conclave with Major Hardwicke, who had learned privately of the secret removal of Alan Hawke's body to St. Heliers. Messengers, in uniform, coming and going rapidly, were hourly admitted to Major Hardwicke's presence, and already a pale-faced woman was on her way from Geneva to rejoin Madame Alixe Delavigne, at the old chateau mansion where Captain Murray only awaited the arrival of Anstruther now ready to open his siege batteries on the man who had covered up his brother's crime. There was not a word to be gleaned from the authorities, and St. Heliers was simply convulsed in a useless fever of curiosity. Even Frank Hatton, representing the London press, was muzzled. Not a soul was, as yet, permitted to approach the old martello tower, where Alan Hawke had faced the Moonshee, "man to man." A squad of coast guardsmen sternly picketed the vicinity of Rozel Head. And a great smuggling raid was the only accepted explanation to the public.

Captain Murray had duly reported the completion of all the Major's carefully matured preparations, and fled away to await the arrival of Justine Delande and Captain Anson Anstruther.

It was a sunny morning, two days later, when Major Hardwicke descended at Simpson's summons, dressed in his full uniform, to the great library, where several grave-faced visitors were now awaiting a formal interview with the agitated Professor Andrew Fraser. The young Major's face was simply radiant, for Mattie Jones had just given him a letter and a nosegay, sent by the young heiress, who had already read a dozen times her lover's smuggled love missive of this fateful morning.

"To-day will decide all. And you will be to-morrow as free as any bird of the air. Then, darling, it will be only you and I, all in all to each other forever more! I will send for you. Wait for me. Our hold on Andrew Fraser is the deadly grip of the criminal law. He must yield."

"The flowers are from Miss Nadine's breast; she sent them to you, with her dearest love," cried Mattie, who rejoiced in the private assurance that her own liberal-minded sweetheart was soon to be discharged 'for lack of evidence.' Captain Eric Murray had obtained a complete deposition, which the magistrate representing the Parliament of Jersey had accepted as State's evidence, under the special orders of the Home Office.

In Andrew Fraser's study, the sallow face of Professor Alaric Hobbs was seen bending over many documents and papers. He was not only busied as a volunteer lawyer for Fraser, but was now the commentator and collaborator of that famous interrupted work, "The History of Thibet." "Say! Go light now on the old man!" prayerfully whispered Alaric Hobbs, drawing Major Hardwicke into the study. "Captain Murray is a devilish good fellow. He is going to make this great traveler, Frank Hatton, my friend. And you'll both be benefactors to 'Science,' if you drop masquerading and post me honestly on Thibet. You are a dead winner in the little social game here. You get the girl—that's all you want. She's a nice girl, too! I'll make the old boy come down and be reasonable. I helped you out, you know. You owe me a good turn, you do."

"All right, Professor Hobbs. I believe I do owe you my wife to be. They would have carried her off or injured her in some way," said the now anxious Hardwicke.

"You bet your sweet life they would!" said the strange Western savant, more forcibly than elegantly. "They would have had the ransom of a prince, or else they would have chucked her in the channel! That was their game!"

In the library, General Wragge, Captain Anstruther and Captain Murray faced Professor Andrew Fraser, whose face was as set as a stone sphinx. His feeble heart was thumping, for the stolen jewels were not his to return now. He cursed the day he had lied about them.

The old General gravely said: "Professor Fraser, I desire to say that Captain Anson Anstruther represents both her Majesty's Government and His Excellency, the Viceroy of India. There is a magistrate waiting in the house even now, and I recommend you to seriously consider the words of the Captain. If you are officially brought to face your past refusal to his just demands, I fear that you will be left, Sir, in a very pitiable position. I will now retire until you have conferred with the representative of the Indian Government. Remember! Once in the hands of the authorities, your person and estate will suffer grievously if you have conspired against the Crown."

Andrew Fraser's eyes were downcast as Captain Anstruther, with a last glance at his friend, then locked the door. "Now, Sir, I repeat to you for the last time the official demand which I made in London upon you as executor of the late Hugh Fraser Johnstone, to surrender certain jewels wrongfully withheld, a list of which I have furnished you, as the property of Her Majesty's Indian Government, and which stolen property I now demand on this list."

There was a long pause. "I cannot! They are not in my possession! I know nothing whatever of them," faintly replied the startled old miser.

"I warn you that I have a search warrant, particularly describing the articles stolen and the place of their concealment, and a magistrate now awaits my slightest word," said the aid-de-camp sternly.

"Do with me as you will. You will not find them! I know nothing about them," faltered the desperate old man. He was safe against arrest, he hoped.

"Then, I will serve the warrant," remarked the Captain, as Andrew Fraser's head fell upon his breast. A fortune lost, and now, shame and perhaps prison awaited him.

"One moment," politely said Major Hardwicke. "Do not serve the warrant. I will surrender the Crown's property, which I have discovered under the floor of this man's study, where he feloniously hid them after denying their possession."

"Thief and deceiver!" shrieked Andrew Fraser. "You lied your way into my house! You have now conspired against my dead brother's estate!" He was shaking as with a palsy in his impotent rage. "And you would rob me!"

"You hardened old scoundrel! I will give you now just half an hour," sternly said Major Hardwicke, "to consider the propriety of resigning instantly your executorship of your brother's estate in favor of your son, Douglas Fraser. He is honest! You are unfit to control your ward! You can also first file your written consent to the immediate marriage of your ward, Nadine Fraser Johnstone, to myself, and apply to have your accounts passed and approved upon your discharge as guardian upon her marriage. This alone will save you from a felon's cell. She shall be free. Douglas Fraser may be made the sole trustee of her estate until the age of twenty-one. On these two conditions alone will I consent to veil the shame of your brother and spare you, for we have traced the stolen jewels, step by step, with the list, the insurance, and the delivery by Hugh Johnstone to you. If you wish to stand your trial for complicity in the theft and concealing stolen goods, you may. General Willoughby, General Abercromby, and the Viceroy of India have watched these jewels on their way. And I came here only to recover them, and to free that white slave, your poor niece!"

There was the sound of broken wailing sobs, and the three officers left their detected wrong-doer alone. Out on the lawn, the young soldiers joined General Wragge, who now looked impatiently at his watch. It was but a quarter of an hour when old Andrew Fraser tottered to the front door. "What must I do? I care not for myself!" he cried plucking at Major Hardwicke's sleeve. "Only save Douglas, my boy, this public shame!"

"It rests all in your hands, Sir," gravely answered the lover. "Shall I call Miss Johnstone down now to have you express your consent and sign these papers in the presence of the General?" Major Hardwicke saw his enemy weakening, even as a child.

"Yes, yes, anything, only get her away out of my sight—out of my life!" groaned the broken old miser, whose sin had found him out. "But, you'll keep all this from Douglas—the story of a father's disgrace? I did it all for Hugh!"

"The family honor is mine, now, Sir! I will save your niece all suffering!" stiffly replied the Major, as he boldly mounted the stair. Captain Anstruther led Andrew Fraser aside. "I had the papers drawn up at once so that you would not be humiliated in public by your obstinacy, and General Wragge will now witness them. He has offered the hospitalities of his family to your niece until she is made a wife."

"I am ready," tremblingly said Professor Fraser, and in haste a singular group soon gathered in the library. A notary and the magistrate entered with due professional decorum.

And then, Captain Anstruther, addressing the executor, in the presence of the gray-bearded old General, repeated the words of voluntary resignation and surrender of all rights as guardian over Nadine Johnstone, first taking his written consent to the marriage. There was not a word spoken as the trembling old scholar hastily signed the papers presented to him. Then he turned to the sweet woman clinging to Major Hardwicke's arm. "I'll be thankful to ye if ye leave my home to me in peace, as soon as ye can! Janet Fairbarn will be my representative!" With a last glance of cold aversion at Hardwicke, he bowed to the Commander of the forces, and then tottered across the hall to his study, when the tall form of Alaric Hobbs hovered at the door.

"My dear child," kindly said the old veteran General, lifting her trembling hand to his lips, and bowing reverently, "Let me be, this day, your father, as you are soon to be born into the service. Here, Major Hardwicke, I give her to you to keep against the whole world, if the lady so consents." Nadine's answer was an April smile, when her lover clasped her hand, and then she hid her blushes on Hardwicke's breast.

"Take me away forever from this horrible prison-house," she whispered.

"Mrs. Wragge's carriage will be here at four for you, and we will have a little dinner en famille at seven, Miss Nadine, for you," said the happy General, as he jingled away, his dangling sword, jingling medals, and waving white plume, making a gallant show. It was truly "an official capture."

"Now," whispered Captain Murray to Hardwicke, "I will clear out with Anstruther, and at once deliver over the unlucky jewels to him to be sealed up and deposited with General Wragge until the Viceroy's orders are received. I've a cablegram that Ram Lal has been arrested.

"And I fancy Miss Nadine will be astonished at seeing two new faces at the dinner table. Let Simpson and the maid at once pack all her belongings, for we can not trust her with this old wreck of humanity. He is half crazed already. I will cable and write to Douglas Fraser that 'ill health' forces the old gentleman to at once give up his trust. Now, I belong, in future, only to Mrs. Eric Murray, of the Eighth Hussars. I throw up my job as an all-round Figaro!"

"Stay a moment," said Major Hardwicke to Captain Anson Anstruther, when Nadine had fled away to prepare for her flitting from the unloved granite fortress.

"When do you go over to London, Anstruther?" said Major Hardwicke, for he now nourished a scheme of "social employment" for the brilliant staff officers. He was short only a groomsman.

"Not till after I am married," remarked the relative of the great Viceroy. "I have done my duty to Her Majesty," he laughed, "and now, I am going to do my duty to myself!" Whereat Harry Hardwicke was suddenly aware that Cupid carries a double-barreled gun, sometimes. In her own apartment, Nadine Johnstone listened to Janet Fairbarn's sobbing plaint, as the heart-happy Mattie Jones flew around the rooms making her young mistress's boxes. Nadine was still in an entrancing dream of freedom, life, and love, and the cunning Scotswoman's plaint was all unheeded. Major Hardwicke was announced, "upon urgent business."

"I cannot tell you yet, darling, just how we vanquished the old ogre," said he. "Be brave, and remember that a feast of long-deferred love-tidings awaits you to-night. I have already sent away all my own luggage. A horse and a well-mounted orderly will be here at four, and so I shall not lose you from sight even a moment until you are safe in General Wragge's home at Edgemere. Let the maid return alone here to-morrow and remove all your effects we may overlook. I will dispatch the luggage and ride after your carriage."

"The proprieties, you know," he laughed, as he vanished, after stealing a kiss.

"The master's in a woeful way," mourned Janet. "To think of your father's only bairn leaving her ain house so! The master's half daft with his troubles, for they've scattered and lost the bit bookie—the work of years!

"Though there's the braw American scholar, tho', to aid him now. He hates you, my poor bairn, for your poor dead mother's sake! It's afearfu' hard heart these Frasers carried. I know them of old!"

"Do you mean to tell me that the 'Banker's Folly' is really my own house?" said Nadine, her cheek flushing crimson at the insult to the memory of her beloved dream mother.

"In truth, it's yer very ain, my leddy. Old Hugh bought it for his last home," whimpered the housekeeper.

"Then you may tell Andrew Fraser," the spirited girl cried, "that I will never cross the threshold again, where I have been kept under a jailer's lock under my own roof tree! Let him write his wishes to Douglas—Douglas is a gentleman. I will keep silent for the sake of the man who was a kindly brother to me on my voyage. But to Andrew Fraser, I am dead for evermore! My life of the future has no place for a half-crazed tyrant—the man who tried to bruise the broken heart of an orphan of his own blood. We are strangers forevermore. And I will leave old Simpson here as my agent to keep the possession of this place in my name. I will write Douglas, so that his old father may live out his days here in peace!"

With a stately tread, the lonely girl descended the stair, when Major Harry Hardwicke tapped at her door, gently saying: "The carriage waits below. And—some one waits there to cheer you on your way onward to Life and Love! Remember, I follow on at once." Nadine Johnstone sprang lightly into the carriage. With a gentle art, the soldier turned away his head and quickly cried, "Drive on!" when the door closed. The orderly at a sign followed the closed vehicle. It was a sweet surprise. Love's coup de main!

Nadine Johnstone never turned her head toward the dark martello tower, for a woman's arms were now clasped around her, and loving lips pressed her own. "Free at last, my own darling! Free!" cried Alixe Delavigne, as she strained her gentle captive to her bosom. "My own poor darling! Now, we shall never be parted! My darling! My Valerie's own image!"

"And, my mother?" faltered the lovely girl, the sunrise of hope flooding her cheek with affection's glow of dawn. "My sister—your mother—looks down from Heaven upon us, joined after many years!" sobbed Alixe. A softer pillow never had maiden's head than Alixe Delavigne's throbbing bosom.

"Did you not feel in your heart that love led me to your side, my darling? That I crossed the wide world to find you, and to fight my way to your heart?" murmured Alixe.

"Ah! Justine always said there was a marvelous resemblance!" faltered Nadine. "She must be sent for now! At once! Poor Justine!"

"She waits for you, even now, at Edgemere! I must save you, now, from hearing the story of strangers!" said Alixe, taking the girl's trembling hands. "Major Hardwicke telegraphed to her at Geneva, in your name, to come on here at once. For, while we have sunshine mantling around us, she, alone, must follow Alan Hawke's body to an unknown grave."

"Is he—that terrible man—indeed dead?" gasped Nadine.

"You passed his body that night when they led you from the tower," gravely said Alixe. "He fell, fighting as a criminal, by the hand of Captain Murray, who struck only to save your liberty, and his own life. The civil authorities will not unveil the dark past of a man who once wore the Queen's uniform in honor. General Wragge and the authorities have softened the blow to Justine Delande, whom he would have made his dupe. You must only know this, darling, from me—from me, alone! And so, to shield poor, faithful Justine, we will all leave Jersey at once. Strange irony of fate. The Viceroy has cabled that Ram Lal Singh has paid over twenty thousand pounds, to be held for Justine Delande, to whom Alan Hawke left all his dearly bought bribes; and also the money he left hidden at Granville—jewels and notes to the value of ten thousand pounds more. The wages of sin, even death, was all he gained, and, strangely, through him, Justine will be shielded from penury; for she bears a broken heart. All that she knows is of his sudden death.

"And now, darling, for I must tell you, the assassin of your father has saved his miserable life by a full confession made to General Willoughby. None but myself must ever tell you that your father's memory, your uncle's liberty were all involved in a tangled story of olden greed, intrigue, shame, and crime. Let the dead past rest unchallenged. The seal of the tomb will be unbroken. And it is your mother's tender love that will gild your bridal. Let me be your sister forever. None but you and I must know the history until others have a right to it."

"Has—has Harry told you of our coming marriage?" faltered Nadine, hiding her head in her kinswoman's breast. There were fleeting blushes as rosy as the Alpenglow now tinging her pale cheek. Nadine Johnstone saw her new-found sister now glowing in a woman's gentle triumph. She had a secret of her own!

It was Alixe's turn to beg a fond heart's throbbing sympathy when she whispered, "General Wragge advises and the Viceroy insists that we leave the island at once. Captain Anstruther must soon report to His Excellency the Viceroy at Calcutta, for his promotion to a Majority takes him back to his kinsman's suite. The Earl has been honored with the control of Her Majesty's Embassy at Paris. And so," the words came slowly in trembling whispers, "both Anson and Harry have applied for 'special licenses,' and there will be two marriages at Edgemere, instead of one. Anson gave you to me, through a strange romance, and he demands to be my loving jailer!

"In three days we can all leave for London. Justine Delande has finished her solemn duty even now, with General Wragge as sole escort. It was the only way to hoodwink useless public gossip."

"And will we be then so soon separated?" cried Nadine, clinging to her kinswoman, in a tremble of yearning love. "For you must go out with your husband to India. You must tell me of my mother, her life, her home, and I must see where she lies."

"Ah, my darling," said Alixe, "we will all go on to my home—your home, at Jitomir, my castle in Volhynia. Your own yet to be. There, Anson and I will leave you and Major Hardwicke for your honeymoon. There, my dearest child, where your own mother's sweet face still looks down from the walls. Where the Russian violets and Volhynian forget-me-nots bloom around her tomb, where you will see her name carved in the memorials of a princely line as 'Valerie, Princess Troubetskoi.' There, I will tell you the whole story."

An April rain of loving tears silenced the girl's voice, as she looked out of the carriage window, and saw Major Hardwicke riding after them. "Tell me no more, now, Darling Alixe," murmured Nadine, "I must have peace—even in this moment of happiness!" Her thoughts went back to the day when Harry Hardwicke had ridden "Garibaldi" straight to the rescue, in her moment of deadly peril, and his saber had fended off the huge cobra. And so, they journeyed on silently-linked in love, dreaming tender dreams.

In the western skies, the sun was sinking over the purpled sea, as they drove down to Edgemere, and the glow of the dying day lingered upon the beautiful hills of Jersey. For the wild storm was quieted and the sea shone as a sapphire zone. Golden gleams lit up stern old Mount Orgueil and gray Fort Regent, and tenderly tinted the rugged outlines of the moss-grown Elizabeth Castle. All nature dreamed in the peaceful, even fall. On the sea, white sails were flitting afar, and the swift steamers passed grandly on toward their distant havens. There was a group gathered in the splendid gardens of Edgemere as General Wragge gallantly advanced.

The silver-haired veteran graciously surrendered his command, as he aided his guests to alight. "This is to be 'Bride's Hall,' and not a 'place of arms'! You are now joint commanders, and so make the best use of your three days liberty! I give up my sword!"

That night, while Nadine Johnstone sat in a heart exchange of confidence with Justine Delande and the fair woman—no longer Berthe Louison—while Flossie Murray was playing hostess with Mrs. Wragge, General Wragge, Major Hardwicke, Captain Anstruther, and the now full-fledged Benedict, Eric Murray, gave some pithy parting counsels to Jack Blunt, "Gentleman Jack," of the London Swell Mob. "Only a mere fluke, and, our desire to save a family needless pain, protects you," said Hardwicke. "These five hundred pounds will enable you to reach America. I venture to advise you to avoid landing on English soil hereafter! You certainly owe something to your plucky, dead comrade, who generously lied, even in death, to save you from transportation!" With a sullen brow, Jack Blunt departed the next morning on the Granville steamer, and, only when in the safe hiding of Etienne Garcin's Cor d'Abondance did he dare to breathe freely. There were two sorely wounded lodgers already lying there, who cursed the unerring aim of the vivacious and eccentric Alaric Hobbs of Waukesha. They had told the landlord their tales over cognac and absinthe, and Jack Blunt vainly tried to comfort the sloe-eyed Angelique, who mourned for the unreturning visitor who had sprung over the easily-stormed battlements of her mobile heart. "Il etait bien beau, cet homme la! Il m'aimait beaucoup! Je le regretterai toujours! C'etait un vrai gaillard!"

Which heartfelt tribute from a nameless wanton served for epitaph to the man lying in an unmarked grave in the soldiers plot at Fort Regent. With gnashing of teeth did Garcin and Jack Blunt discover that H. R. M.'s Consul had officially aided Justine Delande to remove the valuable deposits of the dead adventurer.

"The whole thing was a dead plant on us. Luck turned against him at last!" growled Blunt, as they counted up the cost of the bootless cruise of the Hirondelle. And only Justine Delande's bitter tears flowed in silence to lament the bold adventurer who had lost the game of life!

It was at Rosebank that the three brides were assembled for a sweet review after the quiet double marriage at Edgemere, which caused General Wragge's rugged face to wreathe in honest smiles of delight.

And there was no rice left in the General's military supplies, "when the bridal parties drove away in great state to the Stella."

A curious congratulatory visit from Professor Alaric Hobbs led to the extending of an invitation by Captain Anstruther for the lanky American scientist to visit him in India.

"We owe you a debt of gratitude," laughed Anstruther, "for you helped Hardwicke to his wife. She helped me to mine, and I will see that the Indian Government gives you an official safe conduct to Thibet, where you can see the real line of the Dalai-lamas, and I'll furnish you a veritable 'Moonshee' free of charge. You shall be the very 'Moses' of Yankee investigators! You deserve it!"

"Now you talk horse sense," said the alert Yankee. "I'm going out to 'square things' with old Andrew Fraser's son. Don't ever kick a man when he's down! The old boy has had a very 'rough deal.' That 'fake' about Thibet nearly broke him up. And I've a commission from the Buggin's Literary Syndicate, of Chicago, to 'write up India.' I shall take a hack at Egypt on my way home, and perhaps ride over to Persia, then get into Merv and Tashkend, and come back by Astrakhan into 'darkest' Russia, and return home. I shall also write some spicy letters to the Chicago Howler and the New York Whorl. I tell you, Cap," said Alaric Hobbes, slapping Anstruther familiarly on the back, "you three military men have certainly fitted yourselves out with tiptop wives! I am going to make a pretty good money haul myself on this trip. I'll look you up later in Calcutta. Would like to see the Viceroy. He was a 'brick' when he was Governor-General of Canada. So I'll get young Douglas Fraser fixed up all in good trim, and when I get home and have published my books, settle down and marry a little woman I've had my eye on for some time. I will go in for a family life, you bet!"

"Look out that you don't lose her," laughed Hardwicke.

"I will not get left, you bet!" cried Hobbes. "Now, I'm going to vamoose the ranch. I think that I may have killed one or two of that gang, and I don't fancy the 'monotonous regularity' and 'salubrious hygiene' of your English prisons."

And so, "his feet were beautiful on the mountains," as he went out on his queer life pathway.

After the week of quiet at Rosebank, Captain Eric Murray was hugely delighted to receive his orders to take charge of all Anstruther's confidential work, in England, until the Viceroy should be pleased to otherwise direct. "I think that a garrison life here, with Miss Mildred as commander, will just suit you and Madame Flossie?" laughed the kindly conspiring aide-de-camp, anxious to be away on his road to Jitomir, "personally conducted" by the brilliant Alixe.

The Horse Guards were "pleased to intimate" that Major Harry Hardwicke, Royal Engineers, should be allowed "such length of leave" as he chose to apply for, and a secret compliment upon his "gift to the Crown" of the recovered property was supplemented by a request to name any future station "agreeable at present" to the young Benedict. And the solicitors had now deftly arranged the complete machinery of the care of the great estate, until the orphan claimed her own.

While Jules Victor and Marie prepared Madame Anstruther for her state visit of triumph to Volhynia, Hardwicke and Anstruther soon closed up all their reports to Calcutta. With due cordiality, the unsuspicious Douglas Fraser had wired his congratulations to his gentle cousin; and General Willoughby, and His Excellency, the Viceroy, were also heard from, in the same way. It was the gallant General Abercromby who spread the news of Anstruther's marriage in the club. "Ah!" he enthusiastically cried, "A monstrous fine woman—came near marrying her myself!" which was a gigantic "whopper!"

Justine Delande accompanied the happy quartet to Paris, and there, being joined by her sister, the faithful Swiss sisters remained as guests of Madame Berthe Louison, awaiting the return of the wanderers from Jitomir. The Murrays gayly escorted the quartet of lovers to Paris, and, the laughing face of the gallant "Moonshee" was the very last the four lovers saw, as the Berlin train left the "Gare St. Lazare."

Mr. Frank Halton, in his capacity of "journalist in general," had neatly stifled all comment upon the strange events in Jersey, with the aid of the stern General Wragge and the startled civil authorities. "I think that I had better present you with all the property costumes of Prince Djiddin and the 'Moonshee,'" laughed Halton. "We accept on the sole condition that you will make us a visit at Jitomir, and experience a Russian welcome," cried the Anstruthers in chorus. "The Russian bear has a gentle hug, when his fur is stroked the right way!"

Justine and Euphrosyne Delande drove back happy-hearted to No. 9 Rue Berlioz, for the beautiful brides had claimed them both as future colonists of Volhynia, when the mill of Minerva ceased to grind to their turning.

"We have agreed to own Jitomir in common, as we have both 'joined the army,'" laughed the kinswomen. "There is a permanent home for you both, already awaiting you, and a welcome which time will not wear out. For Jitomir shall be, now and in the future, a temple of Life and Love, the headquarters of a happy clan."

And, so, linked in love, the kinswomen voyaged to the far domain where a mother had sobbed away her life, hungering for a sight of her child's face. The men, grave with the secrets of the troubled past, wondered over the strange meeting at Geneva which had undone all of Hugh Fraser's secretly plotted wiles. "We must never cast a shadow upon Douglas Fraser," they mused. "Let the dead past bury its dead, and all sin, shame, and sorrow be forgotten. For this once, the innocent do not suffer for the guilty."

There was only left behind them a broken old man, wandering disconsolately around the halls of the Banker's Folly and vainly turning the leaves of his unfinished "History of Thibet."

Janet Fairbarn, tenderly nursing the now childish old pedant, vainly soothed him, and fanned his flickering lamp of life in the silent wastes of the Banker's Folly. But the half-crazed scholar refused to be comforted and called in his mental despair ever for "the Moonshee."

THE END