respective
abodes for here in a secrecy which they themselves encouraged, for Rees
imagined that your husband had urgent need of him, and Phipps was ass
enough to believe that your summons meant what he wished it to mean.
There has been no leakage of information anywhere.--Honestly, Josephine,
I think that you may banish your fears."

"A woman's fears only, dear," she admitted, as she gave him her hands.
"Why did nature make my sex pessimists and yours optimists, I wonder? I
would so much rather look towards the sun."

"Soon," he promised her with a smile, "I shall dominate your subconscious
mind. You shall see the colours of life through my eyes. You will find
your long-delayed happiness."

The tears which stood in her eyes were of unalloyed content,--the drama
so close at hand was forgotten. Their hands remained clasped for a
moment. Then he left her.

Back into that room with its strange mystery of shadows, its odour of
mingled tragedy and absurdity. Grant rose from a high-backed chair
guarding the table, as Wingate approached. The latter glanced towards the
three men crouching around the table. Their white faces gleamed weirdly
against the background of shaded light. There were black lines under
Dredlinton's eyes. He made a gurgling effort at speech,--his muttered
words were only partly coherent.

"I resign! I resign!"

Wingate shook his head.

"I am afraid, Lord Dredlinton," he said, "that you are in the hands of
your fellow directors. One may not be released without the others.
Directly you can induce Mr. Phipps and Mr. Rees to see reason, you
will all three be restored to liberty. Until then I am afraid that you
must share the inevitable inconveniences connected with your enforced
stay here."

Phipps lurched towards him with a furious gesture. Wingate only smiled as
he threw himself into his easy-chair.

"Wheat is falling very slowly," he announced. "Every one is waiting for
the B. & I. to sell.--You can go now, Grant," he added, "I will take up
the watch myself."

CHAPTER XXII

Wingate, notwithstanding his iron nerve, awoke with a start, in the grey
of the following morning, to find his heart pounding against his ribs
and a chill sense of horror stealing into his brain. Nothing had
happened or was happening except that one cry,--the low, awful cry of a
man in agony. He sat up, switched on the electric light by his side and
gazed at the round table, his fingers clenched around the butt of