least that his isolation was of his
own choice. So she went boldly up the stairs and thrust the key into the
lock. A moment's hesitation, then she threw it open.

Her first impulse, when she had looked into the face of the man who
stumbled up in fear at her entrance, was to then and there abandon her
enterprise--for Monty just then was not a pleasant sight to look upon.
The room was foul with the odour of spirits and tobacco smoke. Monty
himself was unkempt and unwashed, his eyes were bloodshot, and he had
fallen half across the table with the gesture of a drunken man. At the
sight of him her pity died away. After all, then, the sobbing they had
heard was the maudlin crying of a drunken man. Yet he was very old, and
there was something about the childish, breathless fear with which he
was regarding her which made her hesitate. She lingered instead, and
finding him tongue-tied, spoke to him.

"We heard you talking to yourself downstairs," she said, "and we were
afraid that you might be in pain."

"Ah," he muttered, "That is all, then! There is no one behind you--no
one who wants me!"

"There is no one in the house," she assured him, "save my mother and
myself."

He drew a little breath which ended in a sob. "You see," he said
vaguely, "I sit up here hour by hour, and I think that I fancy things.
Only a little while ago I fancied that I heard Mr. Walsh's voice, and he
wanted the mission-box, the wooden box with the cross, you know. I keep
on thinking I hear him. Stupid, isn't it?"

He smiled weakly, and his bony fingers stole round the tumbler which
stood by his side. She shook her head at him smiling, and crossed over
to him. She was not afraid any more.

"I wouldn't drink if I were you," she said, "it can't be good for you,
I'm sure!"

"Good," he answered slowly, "it's poison--rank poison."

"If I were you," she said, "I would put all this stuff away and go for a
nice walk. It would do you much more good."

He shook his head.

"I daren't," he whispered. "They're looking for me now. I must
hide--hide all the time!"

"Who are looking for you?" she asked.

"Don't you know? Mr. Walsh and his wife! They have come over after me!"

"Why?"

"Didn't you know," he muttered, "that I am a thief?"

She shook her head.

"No, I certainly didn't. I'm very sorry!"

He nodded his head vigorously a great many times.

"Won't you tell me about it?" she asked. "Was it anything very bad?"

"I don't know," he said. "