"Because there IS a ray of light. More than a ray. George, you go home
and go to bed. To-morrow morning I may have news for you, good news."

The blood rushed to his face. He seized the arm of his chair.

"Good news!" he gasped. "Good news for ME! Ros--Ros, for the Lord's
sake, what do you mean? You don't mean you see a way to--"

"Never mind what I mean. But I should like to know what you mean by not
coming to me before? What are friends for, if not to help each other?
Who told you that I was dead broke?"

"You? Why, you ain't got . . . Have you? Ros Paine, you ain't got
thirty-five hundred to spare. Why, you told me yourself--"

"Shut up! Get up from that chair and come with me. Yes, you; and now,
this minute. Give me that thing you've got in the drawer there. No, I'll
take it myself. You ought to be ashamed of its being there, George. I am
ashamed of you, and, if I thought you really meant to use it, I should
be still more ashamed. Come! don't keep me waiting."

"But--but Ros--"

"Will you do as I tell you?"

I dragged him, almost literally dragged him, from the chair. Then, after
extinguishing the lamp, I led him to the door of the bank and locked it,
putting the key in my pocket.

"Now," said I, "I want you to make me a promise. I want you to quit
behaving like a coward, because you are not one, and promise me that you
will go straight home and to bed. I'll see you again the first thing in
the morning. Then, I think--yes, I think your troubles, the worst part
of them, will be over."

"But, Ros, PLEASE--I can't believe it! Won't you tell me--"

"Not a word. Will you promise me to behave like a man and go home? Or
must I go with you?"

"No. I'll--I'll promise. I'll go straight home. But, oh Ros, I can't
understand--"

"Good night."

I left him standing there, stammering incoherently like a man awakening
from a nightmare, and hurried away.

I could not describe my progress down the dark Lower Road and along the
Shore Lane. I do not remember any portion of it. I think I ran most
of the way and if I met any one--which is not likely, considering the
time--he or she must have thought me crazy. My thoughts were centered
upon one fixed purpose. I had made up my mind to do a certain thing and,
if possible, to do it that very night. If I did not, if I had time in
which to reflect, to consider consequences, I might lose my nerve and it
would not be done at all.

It was with a feeling of great relief tha