on the rough ground beneath the cliffs, where he had pretended so
realistically to perish. He intended no attempt to arrest; but,
having created the effigy of himself and stuffed his knickerbockers
and coat to resemble nature and deceive anybody who might return in
darkness to his corpse, Brendon found a hiding-place near enough to
study what would happen. He expected Redmayne to return and guessed
that another would return with him. His hope was to recognize the
accomplice and prove at least whether Jenny was right in hinting her
husband's secret wickedness, or whether Doria had justly accused her
of collusion with the unknown. It was impossible that both were
speaking the truth.

With infinite satisfaction he heard Giuseppe's voice, and even an
element of grim amusement attended the Italian's shock and his
subsequent snipe-like antics as he leaped to safety before an
anticipated revolver barrage.

The adventure told Brendon much and his first inclination was to
arrest Doria on the following morning; but that desire swiftly
passed. A surer strategy presented itself. From the first
ambition--to get Jenny's husband under lock and key--his mind leaped
to a more workmanlike proposition. He suspected, however, that
Giuseppe might take the initiative and deny him any further
opportunity of bettering their acquaintance; and that night as he
fell asleep with an aching shin and cheek, Mark endeavoured to
consider the situation as it must appear from Doria's angle of
vision. Much temporal comfort resulted for him from this
examination.

It seemed clear that Doria and Redmayne were working to destroy