itage of struggle and possible failure as was his. Yet, in the same
breath, the Devil whispered a plausible reminder that men as good as he
had taken the risk time after time; that De Quincey himself had
followed passion's dictates seemingly without a twinge of
self-reproach. But Lenox was too single-minded to take shelter behind
the failures of others. For him the principle was all. For him all
thought of marriage must be set aside, at least, until he knew for
certain how completely the subtle poison had entered into his blood.

"Thank God she didn't give me the chance I wanted!" he breathed in all
sincerity: and flinging himself back in his chair, he lay open-eyed and
still, while night slipped silently on toward morning.

Brutus made one or two attempts to attract his master's attention by
means of a moist nose and an urgent paw; and failing, returned
philosophically to the hearth-rug.

The lamp burned low, and lower, till the room reeked with fumes of
kerosene. This minor discomfort roused Lenox. He lit two candles,
blew out the lamp, and throwing aside his mess jacket, yawned and
stretched himself extensively. By this time one craving outweighed all
others. Every nerve in him ached for the respite of sleep; and his one
chance lay in succumbing to mental or physical exhaustion.

He sat down to the table, and took up his pen, determined to write till
it dropped from his fingers. But here also defeat confronted him. For
although his subconscious brain was discomfortably alert and voluble,
ordered consecutive thought refused to come at his bidding.

He gave it up at length for the simpler expedient of pacing to and fro
in the measured mechanical fashion most conducive to weariness of mind
and body. But though weariness came in due course, and the weight of
all time hung heavy on his eyelids, sleep held pitilessly aloof from
his brain.

For the greater part of two hours the man held out. Then his face
hardened; and he turned deliberately to a combined book-shell and
cupboard that hung on the wall. From the cupboard he took a dark
slender bottle labelled chlorodyne; and seating it on the table,
fetched a glass and water-bottle from the bedroom.

That done, he poured himself out a dose far exceeding the normal
allowance, and diluted it with the least admissible amount of water.

He drank the mixture slowly, savouring its sweetness and warmth; its
uncanny power to soothe and bless. But as he set down