been a matter of business;
and, as far as I am concerned, I have fulfilled my part of the contract."

The man standing upon the hearthrug sighed. "I suppose," he said, "that I
really have no right to complain. I clutched at the straw you held out to
me, and saved myself at a cost greater than the world can ever know. I
hate myself for it. If I had then known what I know now concerning you
and your friends, I would rather have blown out my brains than have
listened to your accursed words of temptation. The whole plot is
damnable!"

"My dear fellow, I am not Mephistopheles," laughed the narrow-eyed
doctor.

"You are worse," declared the general boldly. "You bought me body and
soul, but by Heaven!" he cried, "you have not bought my family, sir!"

Weirmarsh moved uneasily in his chair.

"And so you refuse to do this service which I requested of you,
yesterday, eh?" he asked very slowly.

"I do."

A silence fell between the two men, broken only by the low ticking of the
little Sheraton clock upon the mantelshelf.

"Have you fully reflected upon what this refusal of yours may cost you,
General?" asked the doctor in a slow, hard voice, his eyes fixed upon the
other's countenance.

"It will cost me just as much as you decide it shall," was the response
of the unhappy man, who found himself enmeshed by the crafty
practitioner.

"You speak as though I were the principal, whereas I am but the agent,"
Weirmarsh protested.

"Principal or agent, my decision, Doctor, is irrevocable--I refuse to
serve your accursed ends further."

"Really," laughed the other, still entirely unruffled, "your attitude
to-day is quite amusing. You've got an attack of liver, and you should
allow me to prescribe for you."

The general made a quick gesture of impatience, but did not reply.

It was upon the tip of Weirmarsh's tongue to refer to Walter Fetherston,
but next instant he had reflected. If Sir Hugh really intended to abandon
himself to remorse and make a fool of himself, why should he stretch
forth a hand to save him?

That ugly revelations--very ugly ones--might result was quite within the
range of possibility, therefore Weirmarsh, whose craft and cunning were
amazing, intended to cover his own retreat behind the back of the very
man whom he had denounced to Enid Orlebar.

He sat in silence, his finger-tips again joined, gazing upon the man who
had swallowed that very alluring bait he had once placed before him.

He realise