box where he dwelt and touching his cap asked if he should call a cab.

"No, thank you, Sergeant," answered Alan, "I will take a bus, and,
Sergeant, I think I forgot to give you a present last Xmas. Will you
accept this?--I wish I could make it more," and he presented him with
ten shillings.

The Sergeant drew himself up and saluted.

"Thank you kindly, Major," he said. "I'd rather take that from you than
£10 from the other gentlemen. But, Major, I wish we were out on the West
Coast again together. It's a stinking, barbarous hole, but not so bad as
this 'ere city."

For once these two had served as comrades, and it was through Alan that
the sergeant obtained his present lucrative but somewhat uncongenial
post.

He was outside at last. The massive granite portal vanished behind him
in the evening mists, much as a nightmare vanishes. He, Alan Vernon, who
for a year or more had been in bondage, was a free man again. All his
dreams of wealth had departed; indeed if anything, save in experience,
he was poorer than when first the shadow of yonder doorway fell upon
him. But at least he was safe, safe. The deed of partnership which had
been as a chain about his neck, was now white ashes; his name was erased
from that fearful prospectus of Sahara Limited, wherein millions which
someone would provide were spoken of like silver in the days of Solomon,
as things of no account. The bitterest critic could not say that he
had made a halfpenny out of the venture, in fact, if trouble came, his
voluntary abandonment of the profits due to him must go to his credit.