When I rose to go he seemed surprised. "What? How?" he exclaimed, rising. "But you're not running away again, are you?" "I must go back to Dirk," I said. "Dirk, eh?" he repeated. "I'm under orders," I explained. "I must report every night." "Tush!" he cried impatiently, "That's over now. You come and live with me, laddie." Then he looked sharply at me and in a low voice, "You don't bear me ill-will, Tommy, do you?" I knew of what he was thinking, and the pain in his voice hurt me like a physical wound. I gripped his hand and explained as well as I could that I was under some kind of bond, owing to my father's will, to apprentice myself to a profession, and I had taken Dirk as my master and must obey him. "Right, quite right," said the Captain, evidently recognizing the necessity of the position, but still feeling for some way to evade it. After a moment he said, "Well, I reckon you've served your apprenticeship; and, as for money, you needn't worry your mind about that. You leave Dirk and come to me. I dare say I can teach you a thing or two." "Can you take me to sea?" I asked. At that he smiled rather sadly, and answered, "Well, no, I should think my sailing days are done." He sat down, and with his head in his hands seemed to be musing regretfully. I told him where I was lodging, and promised to come as often and stay as late as I could. He glanced across at Jenny, and said, "Yes, I'd lay you'll do that right enough, laddie." We shook hands cordially, and his last words were, "You see, you're always running away from me, Tommy. I never know where to lay hands on you. You frighten me, my boy. I like to have you near me." He seemed strangely moved. I remembered Worthing telling me how disturbed he had been when he had heard of my escape from Rancey Bridge. As I said good night to Jenny she stopped me at the door to say, "And you've really killed him, Tommy?" "Yes," I said. "Sure?" she asked, fixing me steadily with her eyes, "Sure," I replied confidently. "Oh, Tommy!" she sighed, lifting her face to mine. I kissed her. Then she slipped away from me, and smiling roguishly cried: "There, good night. Little boys should be in bed." So I walked away to my lodging in a dream. * * * * * I learnt later why she had enquired so seriously as to whether I was sure I had accomplished my task. It seemed that once before she had thought I had fulfilled the mission. Her father had grown wonderfully cheerful, and she had imagined that at last the terror must have been lifted from his life. His moving to London had seemed to her a sign that the evil days were over, and that he could come out of hiding. It was just before the removal that Picardino had appeared, and she had given him the message that had reached me at Naples.