Of course barring accidents, and if I continue to avoid a peril which has been hanging over me for half a century or so, and from which I have several times escaped only by the skin of my teeth." "And what is the peril, Mr.Fortescue ?" "Assassination." "Assassination!" "Yes, assassination.

I told you a short time ago that I was once hunted by a pack of hounds.

I am hunted now--have been hunted for two generations--by a family of murderers." The thought occurred to me--and not for the first time--that Mr.Fortescue was either mad or a Munchausen, and I looked at him curiously; but neither in that calm, powerful, self-possessed face, nor in the steady gaze of those keen dark eyes, could I detect the least sign of incipient insanity or a boastful spirit.
"You are quite mistaken," he said, with one of his enigmatic smiles.

"I am not mad; and I have lived too long either to cherish illusions or conjure up imaginary dangers." "I--I beg your pardon, Mr.Fortescue--I had no intention," I stammered, quite taken aback by the accuracy with which he had read, or guessed, my thoughts--"I had no intention to cast a doubt on what you said.

But who are these people that seek your life?
and why don't you inform the police ?" "The police! How could the police help me ?" exclaimed Mr.Fortescue, with a gesture of disdain, "Besides, life would not be worth having at the price of being always under police protection, like an evicting Irish landlord.