NARD. Yes, sir.

[_He goes out Left._

[STERLING _half fills the glass with champagne. He takes out the box of
tablets and counts aloud._

STERLING. One, two, three, four--[_He puts all in the glass, dropping
them as he counts. He hesitates, then quickly drops in two more and
drinks quickly. The glass is empty. He sits by the table thinking a
moment, then lakes a piece of paper and makes ready his stylographic
pen._] Let me see; can I make it seem accidental; it would be so much
less bother and trouble for them! [_He thinks a second, then writes._]
"I have accidentally taken an overdose of my sleeping draught. I have
tried to call some one, but it's no use. I ask only one thing, that you
forget all my sins, wipe out their memory with my name. I want my boy to
change his name, too." [_He hesitates a moment, and then scratches that
sentence heavily out._] No, I won't say that. [_He waits a moment._] God
in heaven, what wouldn't I give for one friendly word just now! Some one
to sort of say _good-by_ to me--take my hand--even a _servant_!

[_He looks about him, showing signs of drowsiness. The door Right bursts
open._ STERLING _quickly hides the letter in his inside pocket as_
WARDEN _comes in._

WARDEN. My hat! Where's my hat!

[_He looks about for it._

STERLING. [_Quietly._] Ned?

WARDEN. My hat, I say! Where's my hat?

[_Looking._

STERLING. Ned!

[_Something in his voice arrests_ WARDEN'S _attention._

WARDEN. What? [_He looks at him._] What's the matter--

STERLING. Nothing--I'm half asleep, that's all--the reaction--I'm worn
out and I've changed my mind--

WARDEN. How do you mean?

STERLING. I'm going away for good--that's the best I can do; I want you
to forgive me--_could_ you? What do you say? Forgive me for everything!
For the sake of the old schoolboy days--

WARDEN. When are you going?

STERLING. To-day. Will you say good-by to me and wish me well on my
journey?

WARDEN. [_Speaks without sympathy._] You can count on me always to help
you in any way I can. You can still retrieve a good deal if you're
strong enough.

STERLING. I know what a beastly friend I've been, and yesterday was more
than any man would stand, but forgive that, too, will you? I've always
been a bad lot!

WARDEN. [_Goes to him and speaks, with the sympathy of a man for a child
coming into his voice._] No, a weak lot; that's been your ruin, Dickie.
I'll see you again before you go.

STERLING. No, I'm going to slee