there were but any other way than this! If only the man
had not gone there bragging about his thousands!" trying to persuade
himself that there had been bragging, and almost hating Meredith for the
wrong he was about to do him. "He would not do it! Let the worst come to
the worst--he would not!" springing to his feet again, and fiercely
shaking his fist as against some unseen tempter.

The clock in a distant church tower chimed twelve. One vibrated on the
night air: it would soon be too late! Morning would dawn, and the
opportunity be gone! Shivering with the remembrance of what the morning
might bring--ruin, disgrace, his whole life blighted--he once more
decided there must be no drawing back. With set teeth and determined
eyes he went towards a chair upon which lay a folded garment. He shook
it out--a long, dark, military cloak--and proceeded, in awkward but
tolerably efficient fashion, to pin the cape so as to, as nearly as
possible, resemble a monk's hood. Changing his boots for slippers, he
enveloped himself in the cloak, drawing the hood well forward so as to
cover nearly the whole of his face; then softly opened the room door,
and stood listening with bated breath.

No sound broke the stillness. He stole noiselessly forth, and entered a
small room, the door of which was ajar, as he himself had placed it a
couple of hours previously. This room opened into the larger one in
which was Allan Meredith. Laurence stole silently to the communicating
door, locked, and with the key outside. It had been well oiled; but this
notwithstanding, there was a slight sound, like thunder to his guilty
ears, as he turned the key in the lock.

He waited breathlessly for a few moments again, then, hearing no sound
from within, softly pushed open the door and looked in. His eyes were,
at once, directed towards the bed. Yes, Meredith was, apparently, fast
asleep. To make quite sure, he stood silent and motionless, listening
intently. The quiet, even breathing of one in deep slumber reached him.
He moved softly towards the dressing-table, his eyes still turned upon
the bed; then stood motionless again, a tall black figure in the
semi-darkness.

Why did he hesitate? What was it that suddenly impelled him to tell the
truth, and cast himself upon the mercy of the man lying there--his good
angel battling for him? The scales trembled in the balance for a moment,
and then it was as though he had chosen--"Evil, be thou my good"; and
the way