CHAPTER VIII.
THE COMING OF THE CUTTER.
I never felt quite the same to our lodger after that little business at the Peel Castle.

It was always in my mind that he was holding a secret from me--indeed, that he was all a secret together, seeing that he always hung a veil over his past.

And when by chance that veil was for an instant whisked away, we always caught just a glimpse of something bloody and violent and dreadful upon the other side.

The very look of his body was terrible.

I bathed with him once in the summer, and I saw then that he was haggled with wounds all over.