Louis’ throat was now so tight that he was nervously obliged to make the motion of swallowing.  He could look neither at Rachel nor at Julian.  He was nonplussed.  He knew not what to expect nor what he feared.  He could not even be sure that what he feared was an accusation.  “I am safe.  I am safe,” he tried to repeat to himself, deeply convinced, nevertheless, against his reason, that he was not safe.  The whole scene, every aspect of it, baffled and inexpressibly dismayed him.

Julian still stared, with mouth open, threatening.  Then he slapped his knee.

“Nay!” said he.  “I shall read it to ye.”  And he drew some sheets of foolscap from his pocket.  He opened the sheets, and frowned at them, and coughed.  “Nay!” said he.  “There’s nothing else for it.  I must smoke.”

And he produced a charred pipe which might or might not have been the gift of Mrs. Maldon, filled it, struck a match on his boot, and turbulently puffed outrageous quantities of smoke.  Louis, with singular courage, lit a cigarette, which gave him a little ease of demeanour, if not confidence.

II

And then at length Julian began to read—­

“’Before I went to South Africa last autumn I found myself in considerable business difficulties.  The causes of said difficulties were bad trade, unfair competition, and price-cutting at home and abroad, especially in Germany, and the modern spirit of unrest among the working-classes making it impossible for an employer to be master on his own works.  I was not insolvent, but I needed capital, the life-blood of industry.  In justice to myself I ought to explain that my visit to South Africa was very carefully planned and thought out.  I had a good reason to believe that a lot of business in door-furniture could be done there, and that I could obtain some capital from a customer in Durban.  I point this out merely because trade rivals have tried to throw ridicule upon me for going out to South Africa when I did.  I must ask you to read carefully’—­you see, this was a letter to you,” he interjected—­“read carefully all that I say.  I will now proceed.”

“’When I came to Aunt Maldon’s the night before I left for South Africa I wanted a wash, and I went into the back room—­I mean the room behind the parlour—­and took off my coat preparatory to going into the scullery to perform my ablutions.  While in the back room I noticed that the picture nearest the cupboard opposite the door was hung very crooked.  When I came back to put my coat on again after washing, my eye again caught the picture.  There was a chair almost beneath it.  I got on the chair and put the picture into an horizontal position.  While I was standing on the chair I could see on the top of the cupboard, where something white struck my attention.  It was behind the cornice of the cupboard, but I could see it.  I took it off the top of the cupboard and carefully scrutinized it by the gas, which, as