Jeremiah Trall nodded, and laughed vacantly. His life of terror and strong drink, added now to want of food and sleep, had scattered the poor creature's wits. He clung to Mallow like a child, reiterating his prayer for protection, and ultimately sliding into an incoherent gabble, disconnected though continuous. Seeing that nothing was to be got out of him, in his present state, Mallow soothed him with repeated assurances of his safety. He then led him round to the back of the house, and had him supplied with food. In another half-hour the wretched man was safely tucked in bed, with one of the men-servants to watch over him. The food and warmth and sense of security relaxed his nerves, and shortly he fell into a deep sleep. His relief had come just in time. Meanwhile Mallow returned to the drawing-room and explained the situation. How Trall had escaped death he did not know, but he understood the man's instinct had led him to seek the protection of the only person who had treated him with kindness. "We shall hear his story to-morrow," concluded Mallow; "and a queer one it will be, unless I'm very much mistaken." "Laurence, do you think this can be the man who inquired at the P. and O. Office? He has a black beard." "False, my dear; assumed no doubt to escape the Brotherhood, although, seeing they are all dead, I can't understand what it is he fears. It is quite possible he may be the man who inquired at the shipping office; we shall know all about that in the morning. And Olive," added Mallow, in lower tones, as the servant entered with the tea, "say nothing about this for the present to Miss Ostergaard or the old ladies. I'll tell Aldean myself later on." Olive readily assented. She had no wish any of them should be alarmed. When they, with Lord Aldean, came in to tea, no word was said about Trall's strange arrival. Later on Mallow found an opportunity for enlightening Jim. "Jove!" said the startled Aldean. "How the dickens did he escape?" "I can't say. Perhaps he wasn't at the meeting. Don't alarm the ladies, Jim. We'll get it all out of him in the morning. He's worn-out now, poor devil." "Do you think he knows the truth about this Carson business?" "It's possible, and probable. At all events, whatever he knows he'll tell me." But, in spite of all precautions, it was not long before Mrs. Purcell knew all about it. Her maids were of more than ordinary loquacity. She immediately declared her belief that they would all be murdered in their beds, and communicated her fears to Miss Slarge. The two ancients reappeared in the drawing-room in a nervous flutter, and, in the end, if only to quieten them, Mallow thought it best to explain matters fully. Contrary to his expectations, they were only the more alarmed. "An Anarchist," cried Miss Slarge, tremulously, "with a bomb!" "I don't think he has a bomb," replied Mallow, gravely. "He is quite harmless, Miss Slarge. He hasn't strength just now to kill a fly."