or will
you come to my lodgings? Or I will go down to the Beaufort, and will
wait for you there." And it was finally arranged that he should get
himself out of this club and wait at the other for Pratt's report of
the interview.

"Do you go down first," said Crosbie.

"Yes: I had better," said Pratt. "Otherwise you may be seen. Mr Dale
would have his eye upon you, and there would be a row in the house."
There was a smile of sarcasm on Pratt's face as he spoke which
angered Crosbie even in his misery, and made him long to tell his
friend that he would not trouble him with this mission,--that he
would manage his own affairs himself; but he was weakened and
mentally humiliated by the sense of his own rascality, and had
already lost the power of asserting himself, and of maintaining his
ascendancy. He was beginning to recognise the fact that he had done
that for which he must endure to be kicked, to be kicked morally if
not materially; and that it was no longer possible for him to hold
his head up without shame.

Pratt took Mr Dale's note in his hand and went down into the
stranger's room. There he found the squire standing, so that he could
see through the open door of the room to the foot of the stairs down
which Crosbie must descend before he could leave the club. As a
measure of first precaution the ambassador closed the door; then he
bowed to Mr Dale, and asked him if he would take a chair.

"I wanted to see Mr Crosbie," said the squire.

"I have your note to that gentleman in my hand," said he. "He has
thought it better that you should have this interview with me;--and
under all the circumstances perhaps it is better."

"Is he such a coward that he dare not see me?"

"There are some actions, Mr Dale, that will make a coward of any man.
My friend Crosbie is, I take it, brave enough in the ordinary sense
of the word, but he has injured you."

"It is all true, then?"

"Yes, Mr Dale; I fear it is all true."

"And you call that man your friend! Mr--; I don't know what your name
is."

"Pratt;--Fowler Pratt. I have known Crosbie for fourteen years,--ever
since he was a boy; and it is not my way, Mr Dale, to throw over an
old friend under any circumstances."

"Not if he committed a murder."

"No; not though he committed a murder."

"If what I hear is true, this man is worse than a murderer."

"Of course, Mr Dale, I cannot know what you have heard. I believe
that Mr Crosbie has behaved very badly to your