going_ to stand there--you may
bet your life to that, and say I told you. If I can get this braying
jackass, this leaking sieve, this trembling, yowking lady's lapdog out
o' the way I can face things.'

'You can say what you like about me, John,' said Mr. Jervoyce.

'Thank you for nothing,' John answered. 'That's my privilege without
your leave or with it.'

'It's all true, is it?' asked Polson, drearily.

'Yes. It's all true. But look here, Polson, when this fool's out o' the
way we can make a fight for credit. It's him as deserves to suffer, and
it's him as has got to suffer to begin with.'

'Me!' cried James. 'Me that deserves to suffer? Who was it put the
thing into my mind? Who was it that came time and time and time again
to whisper into my ear, and tell me where I could find the
men--and--and--and everything? Why curse you----!'

'Look here,' said John Jervase. 'You're a sidesman and a trustee, and
the Lord alone knows what all. Be decent in your language.'

'You made me your catspaw. You've left nothing to be traced to you if
you could help it. You've thrust me into the mire so that you could walk
over dry-shod.'

'You've had your share of the spoil, haven't you, you lean hypocrite?'
asked Jervase. 'If you'll only do as I bid you now I'll pull you
through.'

He had turned to address his cousin, and now he showed him a disdainful
back, and came face to face with his son again.

'What on earth are you doing there?' he asked, after a minute's
watching.

For Polson was divesting himself of his heavy gold watch and chain, and
rolling out gold and silver from his pockets, and pulling one or two
handsome rings from his fingers, and laying them all upon the tablecloth
before him with an extraordinary stolidity of manner.

'What are you doing?' his father asked again.

'I've said good-bye to one or two things to-night,' said Polson. 'I've
got no right to a farthing's worth of all that. I've got no right to
anything. It seems I've lived on stolen money all my life and gone
flaunting about in stolen feathers. Well, I didn't know it. Perhaps I
ought to feel kinder towards you than I do, but I can't help it.'

'Why--why----' Jervase almost babbled. 'What's it mean?'

'It's one more good-bye. That's all.'

'You're not--you're _not_ a-going to leave me, Polly? You're not a-going
to throw your father over?'

'I thought my father was an honest man. I thought I had a right to go
into the world amongst gentle