night."

He turned abruptly away and plunged through the shadowy room towards the
door. As he reached it, Anstice spoke again.

"Cheniston." There was a note in his voice which no other man of
Anstice's acquaintance had ever heard. "In proposing this bargain, this
payment of a debt, I think you show yourself a hard and a pitiless
creditor. But if, in these circumstances, you fail to win Miss Wayne, I
shall think you are a fool--a damned fool--as well. That's all. Good
night."

Without, another word Cheniston opened the door and went out, letting it
fall to behind him with a bang. And Anstice, left alone, extinguished
both candles impatiently, as though he could not bear even their feeble
light; and going to the open window stood gazing out over the starlit
garden with eyes which saw nothing of the green peacefulness without.

And on the table, the big brown moth, scorched to death by his adored
flame in the very moment of his most passionate delight, fluttered his
burnt wings feebly and lay still.

CHAPTER X

Having given Cheniston his word, Anstice set himself to carry out his
share of the bargain with a thoroughness which did not preclude a very
bitter regret that he had made this fatal promise.

As he had been of late in the habit of spending a good deal of time in
the society of Iris Wayne, it was only natural that his absence should
cause comment at Greengates; but while Lady Laura openly labelled
Anstice as capricious and inclined to rate his own value too highly, Sir
Richard more charitably supposed that the poor fellow was overworked;
and Iris, after a day or two spent in futile conjecture as to the sudden
cessation of his visits, accepted the fact of Anstice's defection with a
composure which was a little hurt.

She had thought they were such friends. Once or twice she had even
fancied he was beginning to like her--even to herself Iris would not
admit the possibility of any return of liking on her side; and on the
occasion of their meeting in the wayside cottage, when he had bandaged
her wrist, he had spoken to her in a more confidential, more really
intimate manner than he had ever before displayed.

In the weeks that followed that sudden leap into intimacy, they had been
such good comrades, had enjoyed so many half-playful, half-serious
conversations, had played so many thrilling tennis matches, that it was
small wonder she had begun to look upon him as one of her most genuine
friends; and