"I know I ain't," said Mr. Smith, mournfully. "That's wot's worrying me.
It's like a gnawing pain in my side. D'you think it's conscience biting
of me? I never felt it before. Or d'ye think it's sorrow to think that
I've done the whole job too cheap You think it out and let me know later
on. So long."

He waved his hand cheerily to the steward and departed. Mr. Wilks threw
himself into a chair and, ignoring the cold and the general air of
desolation of his best room, gave way to a fit of melancholy which would
have made Mr. Edward Silk green with envy.




CHAPTER XIII

Days passed, but no word came from the missing captain, and only the
determined opposition of Kate Nugent kept her aunt from advertising in
the "Agony" columns of the London Press. Miss Nugent was quite as
desirous of secrecy in the affair as her father, and it was a source of
great annoyance to her when, in some mysterious manner, it leaked out.
In a very short time the news was common property, and Mr. Wilks,
appearing to his neighbours in an entirely new character, was besieged
for information.

His own friends were the most tiresome, their open admiration of his
lawlessness and their readiness to trace other mysterious disappearances
to his agency being particularly galling to a man whose respectability
formed his most cherished possession. Other people regarded the affair