What is necessary you will not, I think, refuse. You will be
considered to have had some former interest in Phillips, to account
for your voyage, and you will reconcile yourself to the fact that I
shall not at any time approach the sick man, or be known as an
acquaintance of his on board the ship."

His words disturbed her. She felt herself being drawn under the shadow
of some mystery.

"There is something in all this," she said, "which reminds me of the
time when Richard was your protege, the time when we met before."

He leaned towards her, understanding very well what was in her mind.

"There is nothing criminal in this enterprise--even in my share of
it," he assured her. "What there is in it which necessitates secrecy
is political, and that need not concern you. You see," he went on, a
little bitterly, "I have changed my role. I am no longer the despair
of the New York police. I am the quarry of a race of men who, if they
could catch me, would not wait to arrest. That may happen even before
we reach Liverpool. If it does, it will not affect you. Your duty is
to stay with a dying man until he reaches the shelter of his home. You
will leave him there, and you will be free of him and of me."

"So far as regards our two selves," she enquired, "do we meet as
strangers upon the steamer?"

He considered the matter for a few moments before answering. She felt
another poignant thrill of recollection. He had looked at her like
this just before he had bent his back to the task of saving her