"That is very creditable to you, Pentreddle, but I don't think you need decline. You have been useful to me and deserve payment." Thus persuaded, Harry gladly took the notes, but as he placed them in his pocket he observed gloomily that he thought Theodore Dane had died in too easy a manner. Akira shook his head and rebuked him. "My friend, that Mr. Dane broke the Great Law, and when next he is born he will have to pay back to your mother all he owes her. By wishing to torture him, as you suggested to me, you are only preparing trouble for yourself. He has been partly punished. Leave him, as to the rest, to the Great Law." "What is the Great Law?" "As you sow, so shall you reap," said Akira quietly. "I have heard that before, sir." "It is in your sacred Book, my friend; but few of your people in the West understand its real meaning. They think that the Master who said it takes the reaping on His own shoulders, while they sit in happiness and see it done." Akira shrugged his shoulders. "A great many of these foolish ones will be undeceived when their Karma is ripe." "Karma?" The Count arose and shook his head. "We must not talk on these subjects, as I am no priest," he said with a smile; "all I tell you is, that you must obey the Great Law, or suffer according to your breaking of it. Now go and give the will to Mr. Dane." Pentreddle did so, and when questioned as to how it came into his possession, related all that he knew, and how he had brought back the will to its rightful owner. Patricia was present when he explained, and both she and her lover were horrified to hear that Theodore had murdered the poor woman. They questioned and cross-questioned him until he was weary and excused himself so that he might get a little sleep. But there was none for the young couple. "If Theodore is indeed dead, it is a mercy," said Basil thankfully. "Oh, dearest! dead in his sin?" "Oh!" said the young man rather cynically; "if one had to wait until Theodore, from what I knew of him, was fit to die, he would have become immortal. No, darling," he added quickly, catching sight of Patricia's pained face, "I don't mean to be flippant. God have mercy on his soul! I say, with all my heart. But he was a thoroughly bad man." "Well, he is dead, so let us think no more about him." So they said and so they felt, but throughout that weary night they continued to talk of the scamp. Also they referred regretfully to the death of the Squire, and Patricia wept for the old man who had been so kind to her. In the end, grief and anxiety wore her out, and she fell asleep on Basil's breast. They sat in a sheltered corner of the deck, for Miss Carrol refused to be parted from her lover.