lutely hunted by many ladies; but the pursuit seemed to inspire him with an almost amusing horror of ever finding himself alone with them. Princess Radziwill was far the most brilliant, audacious, and highly placed of these huntresses, and Mr. Rhodes was correspondingly on his guard against “the old Princess,” as he used to call her. But there is not a word of truth in the infamous suggestions that have been made concerning their relations. He regarded her as a thorough-paced intriguer, with whom he was determined that his name should never be associated. Had he not had so much regard for his reputation he might have been living at this hour. One of his friends, who knew the state of his health, implored him to meet her forged bills rather than expose his life to what, as the result proved, was a fatal danger. “What is £24,000 to you,” said his friend, “compared with the risk avoided?” “It’s not the money,” said Mr. Rhodes, “but no risk will prevent me clearing my character of any stain in connection with that woman.”
“You are sending him to his death,” said Dr. Jameson, as he prepared to accompany his friend on the last voyage to the Cape. The passage was exceptionally rough. Mr. Rhodes was once thrown out of his berth on to the floor of his cabin. When he arrived in South Africa it was with the mark of death upon him. His evidence had to be taken at Groote Schuur; but he never showed any sign of regret that he had responded to the summons of the Courts. It was his duty, and he did it, and did it, as the result proved, at the cost of his life.
So it came to pass that he who had never
