A fearful gust of wind shook the house. Jabez shied like a frightened horse. There were voices below. His ears were so sharpened he could hear them through the wind. There was he, a rat in a trap. The whole position revealed itself to him in an instant. In silence he clasped warmly the outstretched hand of Farren. It was life or death for him now he knew. Hardly touching the steps he slid down by the railing to the courtyard below. Voices were all around him. He could see two men groping their way. The night was thick and dark. There was a shout, and a figure he well knew threw itself upon him. It was Mother Mandarin. He struggled to get free. "No, dearie, no; you must stay now with your old aunty who loves you. Shorty and the nice gentleman in blue have something pretty to say to you." "Let go, you hag, or I'll----" With a wrench and a kick he freed himself, and made a dash for the river. It had been his friend before--it would be his friend again. Two constables were close upon him. The people, attracted by the noise, were gathering in a crowd. The end of the lane was blocked. There remained only the wharf end free. He could hear Shorty's voice above the rest. "'E's orf; 'e's orf! 'E carn't git out that way. 'Urry up there, copper!" Then a policeman's whistle was blown three times. The rain was falling in torrents, and the wind was almost tropical in force. Down towards the wharf tore Jabez, Shorty close behind him. The police were never in the running. As he reached the stream, and saw its surging surface sweeping seaward, for a moment his nerve failed him. Could he hope to live in that seething caldron? There was no choice--he must risk it. "'Ere 'e is--'ere 'e is!" yelled Shorty. "No you don't--not that way!" With a shout he threw himself on Jabez and clung to him like a limpet. There was a wild struggle. "'Elp, 'elp!" roared the boy. Cautiously the police crept along the crazy old wharf, which was straining every timber in the gale. The two men struggled on--the one for gold, the other for dear life and liberty. There was a cry of terror and a hoarse roar of rage. Then a thud, and after that a splash, and the inarticulate sounds of two human creatures locked in each other's arms--gone to their death together. * * * * * And the voice of baulked humanity was hissed down by the roar of the storm. CHAPTER XIII. THE END OF GERALD ARKEL. Wholly unaware of the fate which had overtaken her brother, Miriam was sorely puzzled how to act on the letter she had received from him the previous evening. If anything happened to him, he had said, it would be through Farren, and she was, therefore, in such event, to give notice to the police immediately that Farren himself was guilty of Mr. Barton's murder, and call upon Shorty to prove it. She would know where to find them both.