Greg said he would watch beside the bed until it should take effect. The patient still twitched and gasped like a creature beyond all control; yet when the others left the room he opened his eyes and asked sanely enough: "Who are you?" Greg told his name. "It would take a long time to explain who I am," he added. "You'd better try to sleep." "You know me?" he asked. "Yes, your name is de Silva." "What do you want of me?" the other asked hoarsely. "Nothing at present except to put a little life into you." "In order to take it away from me later?" Greg, taken aback, said: "It isn't your life that I want." The poor wretch shuddered. "I thought I saw a man down-stairs--or did I dream it? A cab-man----" Greg saw nothing was to be gained by further concealment. "You saw him," he said. "It was the cabman you engaged on the pier the night the _Allianca_ docked." The young man raised himself on his elbow. "Then all is known?" "Pretty nearly all." He fell back. "Well--I'm glad," he said weakly. "The worst agony is over." Presently he opened his eyes, attacked by a new fear. "Who are you?" he demanded. "And those others down-stairs? _His_ men?" "Whose?" asked Greg, perplexed. "De Socotra's." "No, by God!" The recumbent figure relaxed. "Detectives, then? I don't mind that." "Not detectives, either," said Greg. "I'll tell you this much--I'm after de Socotra. I know he's the principal in this affair, not you. I only want you as a means to get him." "You'll never get him," said de Silva with hopeless assurance. "He's not a man like others; he's a fiend out of Hell." "That may be," said Greg grimly. "But just the same I mean to get him! Better not talk any more. Let yourself relax." "I've got to talk. I've kept it in too long. I'll go out of my mind if I don't talk. I think I'm losing my mind anyway I've been in Hell the last three days. Couldn't think what I was doing. But only of him. This is what they call being haunted maybe. Not like books. All of a sudden his face comes between me and what I look at--nice old face with a half-smile and quiet eyes. Oh God! Oh God! I never can forget it now----! "I never set up to be any better than I was. It isn't the first job I've done for different men. I sort of got in the way of it young. Men sent for me when they wanted something nervy done. I could get away with anything because I was little and thin and looked harmless. I had nerves of steel until this happened. I was proud of my reputation." "Good God!" interrupted Greg aghast. "Do you mean to say that murder was your trade?" "Well, why not? It takes more nerve and cleverness than holding down an office stool. I liked the spice of danger. And anyhow the men I put out before this one only got what was coming to them. They were no better than them that wanted it done. Fair game. I don't give a damn for any of the others. They don't trouble my sleep. But this one--Oh God! he's _got_ me! ...