it was quite evident that the strong man was breaking down under the strain of these damning proofs. he would, apparently, have said more if he could, but his lips were dry, and the back of his throat appeared to have turned to ashes. with a shaking hand he lifted the glass of water which had been placed on a little ledge before him, and drank it down eagerly.

"what object do you expect to gain by this course?" the judge asked. "if you have any witnesses to call----"

anstruther intimated that he had. the eager audience appeared to be disappointed. it was as if they had just witnessed the first act of a powerful drama which had ended abruptly owing to some unforeseen circumstance. still, the prisoner was likely to have his own way over this, seeing that he was undefended by counsel; indeed, it was only fair that no obstacle should be put in his way.

"very well, then," the judge said briefly. "the case is adjourned till ten o'clock to-morrow morning."

five minutes later the court was deserted, and another judge was listening to some prosaic case of no importance whatever. seymour had made his way rapidly out of court, followed by a curious crowd. he was quite calm and collected, though he had taken the precaution to hide his features as much as possible. jack and rigby caught him just at the moment that he was entering his cab.

"where are you going to?" the latter said. "i have got a thousand questions to ask you. don't run away like this."

"i wasn't going anywhere in particular," seymour explained. "i have nothing to do but to kill time. it seems to me that i have very little more to do in the way of ridding the world of mr. spencer anstruther. call it unchristian if you like, but there is a feeling deep in my heart that i shall be able to rest in future without the wild desire of always being at that fellow's throat. i don't think they will want me to-morrow morning."

"what do you suppose anstruther is up to?" jack asked.

"suicide," said seymour curtly. "i know that man far better than either of you. and if this verdict goes against him to-morrow--as assuredly it will--he will find some way of putting an end to his life."

jack look significantly at rigby, who nodded.

"come round to my rooms," he suggested, "and let us talk this matter over. and now that you have once appeared in public, and now that you have once told part of your story in the witness-box, you might, at least, disclose the rest of it to two sympathetic friends like ourselves."

just for a moment seymour seemed to hesitate.

"very well," he said. "if you don't get it from me you will from lord barmouth. if it had not been for ferris and your discovery of him at the great metropolitan hotel, nothing would have induced me to say a word. but i have more than a hope now that before long i shall stand before the world a changed man, and be able to take my place amongst my fellow creatures without being the subject of vulgar and idle curiosity. i will tell you everything when we get as far as your rooms."

it was over a whiskey and soda and a cigar that seymour proceeded to tell his story. both jack and rigby had heard the best part of it before. they knew all about the mexican tribe and the dangers of the gold belt, but the cream of the mystery to them was the way in which a man of ordinary appearance could be transformed into so repulsive an object.

"the whole thing," said seymour, as he approached the most fascinating part of his narrative, "was the way in which those people revenged themselves upon outsiders who had the temerity to invade the region of the gold belt. mind you, they were a powerful tribe, and in some remote age or other had evidently been highly civilized. at the time ferris and barmouth and myself had the misfortune to find ourselves prisoners in their hands, they were absolutely eaten up with priestcraft. as i think i told you before, the most powerful man in the tribe was not a native at all, but an englishman. you will not be surprised to hear that the englishman's name was anstruther. i did not know then as i know now what that man had gone through to learn the secret of where the great masses of gold were hidden. interrupting my narrative for a moment--have either of you ever noticed a faint resemblance between anstruther and any other nostalgo like myself?"

"i have," jack cried. "especially in moments of passion."

"that i can quite easily understand," seymour went on. "when anstruther first fell into the hands of those people he was served in exactly the same way as i was served myself; in other words, one of those diabolically clever surgeons in the tribe turned him into a nostalgo. don't ask me how it is done; don't ask me to explain how the muscles are cut and knotted and twisted so as to give one the hideous deformity of face which is my curse at present. but anstruther carried the same intolerable burden in his day. why he was retained amongst the tribe; why he was not sent out into the world as an example to others, is not for me to say. perhaps he made himself useful, for he is a clever man. perhaps they had need of his services. at any rate, the devilish surgeon who could make a man look like a hideous demon fully understood the art of restoring a face to its normal aspect."

"but ferris has discovered a surgeon who can do that," jack explained. "he has already told us so."

"it is on ferris's little frenchman that i mainly rely," seymour said. "otherwise, i should fade out of this business, and you would see me no more."

"there is one thing i cannot understand," rigby put in. "why did anstruther cause all those posters to be placed on the principal hoardings of london?"

"because ferris had escaped him," seymour explained. "you see, he wanted ferris very badly. he could blackmail him, and hoped to go on doing so with impunity. but ferris gave his tormentor the slip, and placed himself in the hands of that clever french surgeon. once the cure was complete, ferris could have passed anstruther in the street without the least fear of being recognized. he had only to change his name, and the thing was done."

"but i don't quite understand yet," jack said.

"well, you see, ferris is a very sensitive man, and cursed with a lively imagination. that was where anstruther's wonderful intellect came in. he had lost his man, and was determined to find him once more. hence those accusing posters, that were destined to meet ferris's eye at every turn, and so play upon his nerves that he would be glad to give himself up, and make the best terms he could. it was just the sort of scheme to appeal to anstruther, and i am quite sure that if ferris had not met his friend the surgeon, the plan would have been brilliantly successful. and now, if you don't mind, i should like to go as far as the great metropolitan hotel and talk this matter over with ferris. i am not in the least likely to be called to-morrow; indeed, it seems to me that i have finished my task so far as anstruther is concerned. this being so, the sooner i place myself in the hands of the french surgeon the better. my word! if you men could only understand the life i have led the past three years!"

seymour turned away, and hid his face for a moment. the other two could respect and understand his feelings, for a long pause followed. when seymour paused again, he was more calm and collected. he pitched his cigar into the fireplace, and suggested calling a cab and going off to the great metropolitan hotel at once. ferris appeared only too glad to see them; indeed, he was much better and more cheerful than he had been a night or two ago, when fate had so strangely brought jack and himself together. most of the plaster had been removed from his face by this time, and, so far as his visitors could see, there were only the faintest traces that the knife had been used to remove the terrible brand of the nostalgo scourge.

"i expect to be out in two or three days," ferris explained. "i shall walk the streets with all the more pleasure now that i know there is no chance of meeting anstruther. i have just been reading an account of the trial in one of the evening papers."

seymour grasped his old comrade's hand, and drew him eagerly to the light. it was brilliant sunshine outside, so that the face of ferris was picked out clearly. despite his assumed calmness, there was a trembling anxiety in seymour's eyes. long and earnestly did he gaze at the pale features of his friend.

"yes," he muttered. "yes, i can hope at last. what a wonderful operator your surgeon must be. so far as i can see, you have no marks whatever, except here and there some star-shaped scars, which will vanish in the course of a few days."

"they will be gone altogether at the end of a week," ferris said. "at least, so my doctor says."

"amazing!" seymour cried. "why, i myself have tried specialists in nearly every capital in europe. every one of them was utterly ignorant of how the thing had been brought about, and not a single operator of the lot could give me the faintest hope of my ever being any better; and yet here you find a comparatively unknown man, who places his finger on the right spot at once. how did he manage it?"

"that is quite easily explained," ferris said. "you will not be surprised to hear that this doctor benin has led a life of adventure. he was out in mexico four years ago with an exploring party, and accidentally came in contact with the same tribe that has cost us both so dear."

"ah," exclaimed seymour. "now i begin to understand. like the rest of us, doctor benin was after the gold. i presume he came under the ban of the tribe, who made a nostalgo out of him, and turned him out as hideous as the rest of us."

"you have guessed it exactly," ferris said gravely. "for over a year benin was experimenting on the muscles of the face. he discovered, at length, that certain of these muscles had been drawn up by some ingenious process, and partially paralyzed. this it was that gave the face of every nostalgo its peculiar hideous appearance. benin discovered, at length, a means by which the temporary paralysis of the muscles could be removed, and a man's normal expression restored to him. you know what i was at one time--look at me now! i tell you that in a month from now you can be absolutely restored to the world, without people shuddering and turning away as they pass you in the street. the same remark applies to lord barmouth. once anstruther is out of the way, we shall come back to our own again, and know the meaning of happiness once more."

"i think that barmouth ought to know this," jack said. "i have already told him about mr. ferris, and he is anxious for a meeting to be arranged. but i must go off now, and inform him how successful the operation has been."

jack found barmouth pacing up and down the study in no enviable frame of mind. on inquiry, it turned out that anstruther had sent barmouth a summons to appear at the trial the following morning and give evidence on his behalf.

"of course, this is a mere act of simple spite," he said. "he merely wants to expose me to the gaze of the world, and thus spoil the rest of my miserable life for me; but i shall go, i have quite made up my mind to that. at the same time, anstruther will not realize his purpose. i shall take the precaution to practically hide my face with strips of sticking plaster, and let it be understood that i am suffering from the result of an accident."

jack proceeded to turn the conversation in the direction of doctor benin. he could not complain that he lacked an interested listener. barmouth would see benin without delay; indeed, he would call upon him after he had given evidence at the trial to-morrow. there would be no difficulty about this, jack said, for benin was pretty sure to attend the hearing in person. jack's prophecy was borne out next morning by the appearance of benin in the well of the court. the first witness called was barmouth; who, true to his promise, had disguised himself almost beyond recognition. as he stepped into the witness-box, anstruther turned upon him savagely from the dock, and then the face of the latter, with the light upon it, was plainly visible to the little french doctor. heedless of his surroundings, heedless of the solemnity of the occasion, the frenchman jumped to his feet, and pointed a shaking finger in anstruther's direction.

"murderer, murderer!" he cried. "dog, is it you?"

anstruther paused, and threw up his hands like a man who is shot. he fell back, a collapsed heap, on the floor of the dock. a warder rushed forward and raised the prostrate figure.

"i think he is dead, my lord," he said simply.