"Depend upon it--to the gallows." Mr Caryll's curious eyes smiled upon his brother, but his lips were contemptuous.

"I am of your own blood, Rotherby--your brother," he said again, "and once already out of that consideration I have spared your life--because I would not have a brother's blood upon my hands." He sighed, and continued: "I had hoped that you had enough humanity to do the same.

I deplore that you should lack it; but I deplore it for your own sake, because, after all, you are my brother.

Apart from that, it matters nothing to me." "Will it matter nothing when you are proved a Jacobite spy ?" cried her ladyship, enraged beyond endurance by this calm scorn of them.

"Will it matter nothing when it is proved that you carried that letter, and would have carried that other--that you were empowered to treat in your exiled master's name?
Will that matter nothing ?" He looked at her an instant, then, as if utterly disdaining to answer her, he turned again to Rotherby.