once more to me, and sitting down says—

"I might have caught him. I got very near. I don't often miss them like that. I was really too clever for him; that's how he got away."

Then a scarlet tongue comes out and he licks his lips. It proves conclusively to me how near he did get. He always does; that is why I raise no objections. It puts him in excellent mood, and, I imagine, has a way of teaching the rat that fitness is a quality never to be despised in this world.

I waited on this occasion till it was quite over. Then Dandy came back and told me all about it, right through, without any variation, even to the licking of the lips.

"So that's your answer," said I. "Have no truck with the God of Circumstance. Follow the God of Chance."

It was the best advice he could have given me. Adventure makes a man of one. I had set forth upon mine and there was no sense in turning back because I had come to a passage at arms with difficulty in the very first stage of the journey. Here was this child, friendless, at the mercy of two gaolers in whose possession were all the bolts of prejudice wherewith to keep her locked away. There was no appealing to the kindlier nature of the two Miss Fennells. There was no telling them the truth of that nephew on whom all their hopes were centred. Then how to prove to this little prisoner that she had a friend waiting outside the walls of her fortress, ready to help her, if she would but accept help, ready to save her from herself and all the relentless consequences of the step she was about to take. How to prove to her that she had need of a friend at all? Would she believe it? Would she ever take the word of an utter stranger against the promises of the man she loved? Not if I had any knowledge of women at all.

"But plain knowledge never won or lost an adventure yet," said I, and Dandy looked up with a vast amount of appreciation into my face. He entirely agreed with me there. "We must write to her," I went on. "Contrive to meet her one of these nights on the cliffs—give her the letter, make some effort to see her alone and tell her—tell her everything—tell her to go back to her blue skies and her sunshine where she can bury those black grave clothes, the garments of a civilized community, and take out her gown of canary-colored satin once more."

Having made up our minds to this, we went into the house and began the inditing of a letter to Clarissa. It was at this point that Dandy lost 

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