"I met her there. She was walking about outside, afraid to go in. The old woman had left her there alone, with a--a--dead body in the place."

At these words a change came over Dudley's face.

"You had better have left her alone," said he, sharply. "I wonder you hadn't more sense than to take up with a girl like that."

Max fired up indignantly.

"Like what? There's nothing wrong with the girl--nothing whatever.

Surely her behavior to-night showed you that."

"Her behavior!" said Dudley, mockingly. "Do you mean her behavior to me, or to you?"

"Both. It was that of a modest, straightforward girl."

"Very straightforward--to me. Very modest to you. But I would not waste too much time over her virtues if I were you."

"I don't want to waste any," replied Max, shortly. "I don't see how we can shake her off, since she has offered to go back to the wharf with us. But I shall only be alone with her for the few minutes you leave us here. Or, better still, I'll go with you, and wait while you see your friend."

"What friend?"

"I thought you said you had an appointment with some one, and were going to put him off."

"Oh, yes. Well, let us go to him now."

And Dudley softly opened the outer door.

Max perceived that what he proposed was to give Carrie the slip. He drew back a step.

"We can't go without telling her, at least _I_ can't. The girl's quite right. It would be safer for her to go with us. For it's an awful place, not fit to trust oneself in."

"And you think it would be the safer for the presence with us of one of the gang?"

"She is not one of the gang!" cried Max, involuntarily raising his voice. "I'd stake my life on there being no harm in her!"

The door of the sitting-room was opened behind them, and Carrie came out.

"I couldn't help hearing what you said," she said, quietly. "But you needn't quarrel about me. One of you says there's no harm in me; the other says there is. I dare say you're both right. If you don't want me to go to the wharf with you, Mr. Horne, why, I won't go, of course. Good evening."

She wanted to go out, but Dudley stood in the way, preventing her.

"You're quite wrong, I a.s.sure you," said he, quickly. "There has been a little discussion about it, certainly; but I think you and my friend are quite right, and it would be much better if you would go with us--much better. Pray don't be annoyed at anything I've said. Remember, I have never seen you before, while my friend, who knows you better, naturally appreciates you more."

Carrie maintained an att.i.tude of cold stolidity while Dudley spoke.

"Am I to go with you now, then?" she asked, coldly, when he had finished speaking.

"Well, no, I think not. It will only take me ten minutes to go down into the Strand and put off the fellow I was going to the theatre with. I'll come back here, and we'll all go on together."

Carrie looked at him steadfastly while he spoke, and he returned her gaze. For a few moments there was silence, and then it was broken by an exclamation from Max. He was staring first at one and then at the other with a face full of perplexity.

"Do you know," cried he at last, "that when you both look like that, and I turn from one to the other, it is as if I were looking all the time _at the same face_?"

Both Dudley and Carrie looked startled as they withdrew their eyes from each other's face. Then each sought the eyes of the other again as if it were furtively. Dudley seemed, of the two, the more impressed by his friend's words. He laughed with some constraint.

"Fanciful, very fanciful," said he, mockingly. "What likeness can there be between a girl with a white face, fair hair and blue eyes," and he gave a glance at Carrie which had in it something of fear, "and a man of my type?"

Max looked at him, and then said slowly:

"It's not in the features, I know; it's not in the coloring; but it is there, for all that."

"The young lady will not feel flattered," said Dudley, ironically. "I will leave you to make your peace with her, and when I come back, in ten minutes, I expect to find you both ready to start."

He had his hand on the door, when some thought seemed to strike him, and he hesitated and turned to put his hand on the shoulder of Max. Then he swung the young man round in such a way that his own back was turned to Carrie. Looking steadily and with a certain look of affectionate regard into his friend's face, he formed with his lips and eyes a final warning against the girl. Then, with a nod, he went out, closing the door behind him.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE SWORD FALLS.

When Max turned, he found that Carrie had retreated within the door of the sitting-room. He followed her into the room.

"I hope he'll give us the full ten minutes," said he, "for I had no luncheon to-day, and when I'm hungry I always get very cross. Is that your experience?"

Carrie looked at the table with a strange smile.

"You ought to know," said she.

His face showed that he had not forgotten.

"Those biscuits!" said he. "I remember. Does your granny treat you better now?"

Carrie's face grew gloomy and cold. And Max noticed that, thin as she had been when he saw her last, she was much thinner now. The outline of her cheek was pathetically pinched, almost sunken.

"No. Worse," she said at last, in a low voice.

"You don't mean that she--_starves_ you?"

To his dismay, he saw the tears welling up in the girl's blue eyes, which looked preternaturally large in her wasted face.

"Pretty nearly," said she.

Max stared at her for about the s.p.a.ce of a second; then he went behind her, put his hands lightly on her shoulders and inducted her into the chair Dudley had placed for himself at the dinner-table.

"It is evident," said he, gravely, "that Providence has appointed me purveyor of food to you, for this is the second time, within a comparatively short acquaintance, that I have had the honor of providing you with a repast. This time it's quite in the manner of 'The Arabian Nights,' isn't it?"