ent three weeks at the Lombard Deeps Mine. There were no
rich veins of gold; there was a certain alluvial deposit, which for a
time, a few months, might yield five ounces to the ton. I wrote the
report for a motive which no longer exists. God Himself smote me for
my infamous work. Gentlemen, you can do with me exactly as you think
fit, but this report, signed by me, shall never go before the world."

As he said the last words he hastily tore away his own signature,
crushed it in his hands and, crossing the room, threw it into a small
fire which was burning in the grate.

This action was the signal for great excitement on the part of most of
the directors. Others poured out floods of questions. Lord Grayleigh
alone remained quietly seated in his chair, but his face was white,
and for the time he was scarcely conscious of what he was doing.

"I have no excuse to offer," continued Ogilvie, "and I refuse to
inculpate anyone with myself in this matter. This was my own concern;
I thought out the report, I worded it, I signed it. Rycroft was more
or less my tool. In the moment of my so-called victory God smote me.
You can do with me just as you please, but the Lombard Deeps Company
must collapse. I have nothing further to say."

He left the room, dropping the now worthless document on to the table
as he did so. No one interrupted him or prevented his exit. As his
footsteps died away on the stairs the discomfited and astonished
directors looked one at the other.

"What is the meaning of it all?" said one, going up to Grayleigh;
"you are chairman, and you ought to know."

Grayleigh shook himself and stood up.

"This must be a brief madness," he said; "there is no other way to
account for it. Ogilvie, of all men under the sun! Gentlemen, you know
his character, you know what his name was worth as our engineer, but
there is one other thing you do not know. The poor fellow has a child,
only one, to whom he is devoted. I heard this morning that the child
is dying. Under such circumstances his mind may have been unhinged.
Let me follow him. I will return after I have said a word to him."

The chairman left the room, ran quickly downstairs and out into the
street. Ogilvie had hailed a hansom and was getting into it.

"One moment first," said Grayleigh.

"What do you want?" asked Ogilvie.

"An explanation."

"I gave it upstairs."

"You are mad--you are mad."

"On the contrary, I believe that I am sane--sane at last. I