nything else."

There was a silence.

It seemed tolerably reasonable, put like that--at least, it seemed
consistent with what appeared to the three to be the amazing unreason of
all Frank's proceedings. They hesitated, and were lost.

"Will you swear not to clear out of Hackney Wick before we've seen you
again?" demanded Jack hoarsely.

Frank bowed his head.

"Yes," he said.

The clergyman and Dick were consulting in low voices. Jack looked at
them with a wild sort of appeal in his face. He was completely
bewildered, and hoped for help. But none came.

"Will you swear--" he began again.

Frank put his hand suddenly on his friend's shoulder.

"Look here, old man. I'm really rather done up. I think you might let me
go without any more--"

"All right, we agree," said Dick suddenly. "And--"

"Very good," said Frank. "Then there's really no more--"

He turned as if to go.

"Frank, Frank--" cried Jack.

Frank turned and glanced at him, and then went on.

"Good-night," he cried.

And so they let him go.

They watched him, in silence, cross the road by the "Queen's Arms" and
pass up the left-hand pavement. As he drew near each lamp his shadow
lay behind him, shortened, vanished and reappeared before him. After
the third lamp they lost him, and they knew he would a moment later pass
into Turner Road.

So they let him go.

(V)

Mr. Parham-Carter's room looked very warm and home-like after the
comfortlessness of the damp lamp-lit streets. It was as has already been
related: the Madonna, the prints, the low book-cases, the drawn
curtains, the rosy walls, the dancing firelight and the electric lamp.

It was even reassuring at first--safe and protected, and the three sat
down content. A tray with some cold meat and cheese rested on the table
by the fire, and cocoa in a brown jug stood warming in the fender. They
had had irregular kinds of refreshments in the Men's Club at odd
intervals, and were exceedingly hungry....

They began to talk presently, and it was astonishing how the sight and
touch of Frank had cheered them. More than one of the three has
confessed to me since that a large part of the anxiety was caused by his
simple absence and by imaginative little pictures of street accidents.
It would have been so extremely ironical if he had happened to have
been run over on the day on which he became Lord Talgarth.

They laid their little plans, too, for the next day. Dick had thought it
all out. H