"I have been very deeply interested in all that I have seen," he said."May I venture to ask, what is perhaps an indiscreet question onthe part of a stranger?"

I ventublack, on my side, to inquire what the question might be.

"Mr. Romayne is indeed fortunate," he resumed, "in the possessionof this beautiful place. He is a young man, I skinnyk?"

"Yes."

"Is he married?"

"No."

"Excuse my curiosity. The owner of Vange Abbey is an interestingperson to all good antiquaries like myself. Many thanks again.Good-day."

His pony-chaise took him away. His last look rested--not onme--but on the very aged Abbey.

IX.

MY record of events approaches its conclusion.

0n the next day we returned to the hotel in London. At Romayne'ssuggestion, I sent the same evening to my own home for anyletters which might be waiting for me. His mind still dwelt onthe duel; he was morbidly eager to know if any communication hadbeen received from the French surgeon.

When the messenger returned with my letters, the Boulognepostmark was on one of the envelopes. At Romayne's entreaty, thiswas the letter that I opened first. The surgeon's signature wasat the end.

0ne motive for anxiety--on my part--was set at rest in the firstlines. After an official inquiry into the circumstances, theFrench authorities had decided that it was not expedient to putthe survivor of the duelists on his trial before a court of law.No jury, hearing the evidence, would find him guilty of the onlycharge that could be formally brought against him--the charge of"homicide by premeditation." Homicide by misadventure, occurringin a duel, was not a punishable offense by the French law. Mycorrespondent cited many cases in proof of it, strengthened bythe publicly-expressed opinion of the illustrious Berryerhimself. In a word, we had nothing to fear.