"Then what revenge could you wreak that would be too full, too sweet, upon whosoever should be instrumental in bereaving you of her for ever? You have not yet been tried, John Ames, and yours is a character outside the ordinary." Was the speaker right, after all? thought John Ames. He looked at the dark face and silvery beard, and the glitter of the keen grey eyes, and wondered. Yet as he looked, he decided that the owner of that face must be considerably younger than his appearance. Was he himself capable of such a hardening--of so gigantic and ruthless and lifelong a feud? One thing was incontestable. He certainly had lost the first feeling of repulsion and horror; indeed, he could not swear it had not been replaced by one of profound sympathy. The other continued. "This is what you will do. First of all, you will give me your word to make no attempt to seek out this place, though it would be futile even if made. For remember I have saved your life, and the life of one who is more to you than life, not once, but many times, though unknown to you. Others sought escape in the same way as yourselves. Ask, when you are safe again, how many found it? I did not spare them. I spared you, John Ames, because your wanderings reminded me of my own. I watched you both frequently, unknown to yourselves, and doing so the past came back so vividly as to render me more merciless still towards others in the same plight. But you two I spared." "Then it was you I challenged that morning in the dark?" "Even your vigilance was as nothing against me, John Ames, for did I not step right over you while you slept?" The other whistled. There could be no doubt about that. "Then you will take these two packets. The one marked on the outside `A' you will open at once, and with every precaution will forward the enclosure it contains to the address that enclosure bears." This John Ames promised to do. He would register it if the post lines were still open. If not, he would take every precaution for its safety until they were. "But they will be still open," was the decided reply. "As for the next packet, marked `B,' you will not open it--not yet. Keep it with you. The time may come when you will see everything dark around you, and there is no outlook, and life hardly worth prolonging. Then, and then only, open it. Do you promise to observe my instructions implicitly?" "I pledge you my word of honour to do so," replied John Ames, gravely. "Then our time for parting is very near. Remember that you owe your life--both your lives--to me. Don't interrupt. It is not unnecessary to remind you again of this, for you will meet with every temptation to reveal that which I charge you to keep to yourself--viz. all relating to my personality and what you have seen and heard." "One moment. Pardon my asking," said John Ames, tentatively. "But have you ever told anybody else what you have told me?"