The Man Who Rose Again Part 10

During the ride to London Leicester was very silent. The car swept swiftly along the now almost empty roads, and presently stood outside the club where we first met the man whose story I am trying to tell.

Directly they entered the smoking-room, Leicester ordered a large whisky, which he drank quickly. It seemed as though his abstinence at Mr. Castlemaine's had caused cravings which he was eager to appease.

"Well," said Purvis presently, "you've taken the first step."

"Yes, I've taken the first step."

"I say, Leicester, give it up--it's not right."

Leicester shrugged his shoulders.

"Even if you succeeded it would be----"

"You mean that I am not worthy of her?"

"You know that yourself."

Leicester laughed.

"You see you rush to whisky the moment you get back."

"Well, she knows all about it."

"How?"

"You told her--and you told her father too."

Purvis's eyes dropped.

"Oh, don't be downcast, my dear fellow," said Leicester mockingly. "I gave you liberty to tell them, and you took advantage of my permission.

And you told her all the rest, too. Oh, I know you well enough for that, and on the whole I'm glad. But mind," and he rose to his feet like a man in anger, "if you let on about the rest----"

"You mean the wager?"

"Call it what you like--if you or Sprague let on about that, then, to quote your Bible, it were better that a millstone were hanged about your neck, and you were cast into the depths of the sea."

Purvis shrank before the savage gleam of the man's eye.

"You--you surely don't mean that--that you are going on with--with this business?"

"Yes, I am," replied Leicester. His voice was quiet, but he spoke like a man in anger. "I am going on, and--and--if you do not play the game--well, you know me, Purvis."

"Of course a promise is a promise," said Purvis; "all the same----"

"Go to bed, my son," said Leicester mockingly. "I think you'll be all right now."

If Purvis had remained he would have been almost frightened at the look which came into Leicester's eyes.

CHAPTER V

THE STRENGTHENING OF THE CHAIN

For the next few days following the night of the dinner at John Castlemaine's house, a change seemed to have come over Radford Leicester. He became less hopeless, and he did not drink so freely. It might seem as though an evening spent in the society of a good woman had a beneficial effect upon him. He did not take any further steps to carry out his avowed intention, but when he spoke of women it was with less bitterness.

Both Sprague and Purvis noticed this, and both wondered what it portended. Could it be that Leicester meant to reform, or did it mean that he was simply playing a part, in order to win the woman he had boasted he could win?

Nevertheless he was moody, and seemed unhappy. He met these men sometimes at the club, but spoke little. Moreover, in public he was very abstemious, so much so that even the waiter noticed it.

"Is he turning over a new leaf?" asked Purvis of Sprague.

"If he is, he is not playing the game," replied the other.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it was understood that he should win her on the understanding that he was an atheist and a drunkard."

"But surely you don't object to his reforming?"

"No, of course I should be only too glad if he did, only in that case all the point of our discussion would be gone."

They were, during this conversation, sitting in the club where we first met them, and just as Purvis was about to reply to the other Leicester entered the room. He looked even paler than usual, and the dark rings around his eyes suggested pain either physical or mental. No sooner did he see them than he walked towards them, as if glad of an opportunity of companionship.

"How are you, Leicester?"

"I have a beastly headache," he replied.

Sprague and Purvis looked at each other significantly, a look which Leicester noticed.

"No," he said, "don't draw your conclusions. I have not been drinking.

It's that confounded const.i.tuency."

"Why, anything happened there?"

"No--nothing of importance. It's only the old game. This man has to be written to, and the other man has to have a certain statement explained.

I'd give up the whole thing for twopence."

"Where would your career be then, Leicester?"

"Hang the career," he said moodily.

"It's all very well to say that, old man, but a great deal depends on it."

"What?"