Stay,--they were going to have a burial service. The girl's last lingering caress was over. She had fallen on her knees on the soft earth, and was looking down into the yawning cavity. The men stood around with uncovered heads, while her husband repeated from memory portions of the burial service. It was a long time since he had been to a funeral,--not since his old father died up in Aroostook County, and the detective drew the back of his hand across his eyes as he listened to the words spoken in a choking voice. "'If a tree fall toward the south or toward the north, in the place where the tree falleth there it shall be. "'There is hope of a tree if it be cut down, that it shall sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease.... Man's days are as grass, as a flower of the field so he flourisheth.... I am the Resurrection and the Life. He that believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. I know that my Redeemer liveth, and though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God'--" The speaker's words ceased suddenly. His young wife had fallen fainting at his feet, and hurriedly lifting her in his arms he started toward the house. A few minutes later the little group stood silently beside the heaped-up grave. The old lady was going to speak now. "Friends," she said, sadly and harshly, "we separate now. I thank you all. Captain White will speak to you on my behalf. One favour I have to request of you six men. Let this night's occurrence rest in oblivion. For the sake of that heart-broken girl I ask you. I have no doubt you will respect my request. Good-night and good-bye. There are some of you I shall never see again. Lead honourable lives; there is no happiness in any other." She went from one to another with a stern, immovable face, shaking hands in a manner that made the detective's flesh crawl nervously. Was she, too, going to give up the ghost? "McTavish and Stevens," whispered Captain White to the two men from the yacht, "call on me in a day or two. There are pretty considerable sums to be placed to your credit in the bank. Look here you, H. Robinson," and he approached the detective, "what are your sentiments now?" They were all struggling toward the house, with the addition to the party of a ghostly white pony, who thrust his nose over Captain White's arm. "My sentiments are to get to bed," said H. Robinson, peevishly. "You are afraid you'll do something unbusinesslike while you are feeling soft," said Captain White, "but let me ask you a question. What do you expect to get out of this thing now?" "Satisfaction, if I like," snapped his companion. "Satisfaction, yes,--you can blurt out what Mrs. Mercer's father was. What follows? Remarks to the effect that you were a hound and your hare escaped you. What then? You think you have disgraced a family, but Justin Mercer will jump himself and his wife to some place across the world so quick that you couldn't see 'em go."