soon as you can. Go to Trouville or Dinard, or some place where there's plenty of life. I shouldn't busy myself in the country, if I were you. By the bye," he added, "there is one more question I should like to ask you, if you don't mind."
Heneage called a waiter and ordered more drinks. Then he turned to Wrayson.
"Well," he said, "go on!"
"About that little brute, Barnes' brother. Is he about still?"
Heneage's face darkened. He clenched his fist, but recovered himself with a visible effort.
"Yes!" he answered shortly, "he is about. He is everywhere. The little brute haunts me! He dogs my footsteps, Wrayson. Sometimes I wonder that I don't sweep him off the face of the earth."
"But why?" Wrayson asked. "What does he want with you?"
"I will tell you," Heneage answered. "When he first turned up, I was interested in his story, as you know. We commenced working at the thing together. You understand, Wrayson?"
"Perfectly!"
"Well—after a while it suited me—to drop it. Perhaps I told him so a little abruptly. At any rate, he was disappointed. Now he has got an idea in his brain. He believes that I have discovered something which I will not tell him. He follows me about. He pesters me to death. He is a slave to that one idea—a hideous, almost unnatural craving to get his hands on the source of his brother's money. I think that he will very soon be mad. To tell you the truth, I came in here to-night because I thought I should be safe from
