Denzil Quarrier

After much debate, and with great reluctance, he consented. From his conversation of an hour ago he knew that Glazzard would be at the Academy on the morrow. He had expressed a hope for a meeting there. At the Academy, accordingly, the test should be applied. It was all a fabrication; Northway, laying some new plot, might already know Glazzard by sight. But the latter should be put on his guard, and Mrs. Wade should then be taught that henceforth she was forbidden to concern herself with his—Quarrier's—affairs.

He went home and passed a cheerless time until the next morning. Suspicion, in spite of himself, crept into his thoughts. He was sick at heart under the necessity, perhaps life-long, of protecting Lilian's name against a danger which in itself was a sort of pollution. His sanguine energy enabled him to lose the thought, at ordinary times, of the risks to which he himself was exposed; but occasionally he reflected that public life might even yet be made impossible for him, and then he cursed the moral stupidity of people in general.

At eleven o'clock next morning he entered Burlington House. In the vestibule at the head of the stairs stood Mrs. Wade, and Northway, indistinguishable from ordinary frequenters of the exhibition, was not far off. This gentleman had a reason for what he was doing; he wished to discover who Mr. Marks really was, and what (since the political plea could no longer be credited) had been his interest in Lilian.

"He is here already," said Mrs. Wade, as she joined Denzil. "Among the sculpture—the inner room."

"Then I shall follow you at a distance. Challenge that fellow to go up to Glazzard and address him as Mr. Marks."

The widow led in the direction she had indicated, through the central hall, then to the right, Northway following close. Denzil had, of course, to take it for granted that Mrs. Wade was acting honourably; he did not doubt her good faith. If it came to a mere conflict of assertions between his friend and Northway, he knew which of them to believe. But he was much perturbed, and moved forward with a choking in his throat.

Arrived at the threshold of the Lecture Room, he saw that only some dozen people were standing about. No sooner had he surveyed them than he became aware that Northway was sauntering directly towards the place where Glazzard stood; Mrs. Wade remained in the doorway. Unperceived, the informer came close behind his confederate and spoke quietly.

Glazzard turned as if some one had struck him.

It was forcible evidence, confirmed moreover by the faces of the two men as they exchanged a few words.

Seeing Northway retire, Quarrier said to Mrs. Wade:

"Please to go away. You have done your part."

With a look of humble entreaty, she obeyed him. Denzil, already observed by Glazzard, stepped forward.

"Do you know that man?" he asked, pointing to Northway, who affected a study of some neighbouring work of art.

"I have met him," was the subdued answer.

It was necessary to speak so that attention should not be drawn hither. Though profoundly agitated, Quarrier controlled himself sufficiently to use a very low tone.

"He has told an incredible story, Glazzard. I sha'n't believe it unless it is confirmed by your own lips."

"I have no doubt he has told the truth."

Denzil drew back.

"But do you know what he has said?"

"I guess from the way he addressed me—as Mr. Marks."

Glazzard was deadly pale, but he smiled persistently, and with an expression of relief.

"You—you—betrayed us to him?"

"I did."

Each could hear the other's breathing.

"Why did you do that?" asked Denzil, the excess of his astonishment declaring itself in a tone which would have suited some every-day inquiry. He could not speak otherwise.

"I can't tell you why I did it. I'm not sure that I quite understand now. I did it, and there's no more to be said."

Denzil turned away, and stood with his eyes fixed on the ground. A minute passed, and Glazzard's voice again sounded close to him.

"Quarrier, you can't forgive me, and I don't wish you to. But may I hope that you won't let my wife know of it?"

"You are safe from me," answered Denzil, barely glancing at him, and at once walked away.

He returned to the vestibule, descended the stairs, went out into the court. There, aside from vehicles and people, he let his thoughts have their way. Presently they summed themselves in a sentence which involuntarily he spoke aloud:

"Now I understand the necessity for social law!"

THE END