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"Don't know who he is?" said Dorian, listlessly. "What do you

mean? Wasn't he one of your men?"

"No, sir. Never saw him before. Seems like a sailor, sir."

The pen dropped from Dorian Gray's hand, and he felt as if his

heart had suddenly stopped beating. "A sailor?" he cried out.

"Did you say a sailor?"

"Yes, sir. He looks as if he had been a sort of sailor; tattooed

on both arms, and that kind of thing."

"Was there anything found on him?" said Dorian, leaning forward

and looking at the man with startled eyes. "Anything that would

tell his name?"

"Some money, sir-not much, and a six-shooter. There was no name

of any kind. A decent-looking man, sir, but rough-like. A sort of

sailor we think."

Dorian started to his feet. A terrible hope fluttered past him.

He clutched at it madly. "Where is the body?" he exclaimed.

"Quick! I must see it at once."

"It is in an empty stable in the Home Farm, sir. The folk don't

like to have that sort of thing in their houses. They say a

corpse brings bad luck."