“That’s satisfactory, as far as it goes,” Gerald remarked, climbing the steps.  “The sooner I see him, the sooner I’ll get through the thing.”  He paused and gave Grace an anxious glance.  “You’ll stand by me?  You generally did.”

“I suppose so,” Grace agreed.  “But I don’t know your difficulties and what you want.”

“You will know soon,” Gerald rejoined and shrugged his shoulders.  “Well, it’s an awkward business; I’ve got to brace up.”

He left her and went to the library, where Osborn sat at the big oak table with some letters and a wine glass in front of him.  The spacious room was mostly in shadow, but a ray of fading light shone in through the tall west window.  Gerald avoided the illumination as he advanced, and stopped in the gloom opposite Osborn, who straightened his body with a jerk and upset the glass.

“Well?” he said harshly.  “Why have you left the bank?”

“The wine is running across the table and on to your clothes.  Shall I ring?”

“No,” said Osborn, pushing his chair back noisily.  “Let it run!  Stand still or sit down.  Tell me why you came.”

“To begin with, I have left the bank for good.”

“Ah,” said Osborn grimly, “I suspected something like this!  You mean they turned you out?  Well, you are consistent in your habits.  You left school in similar circumstances, you left Woolwich, and now—­”

“I was not turned out, sir.  They gave me a week’s leave, but I can’t go back.”

Osborn frowned.  Things had been going well and he had thought himself free from trouble for a time, but it looked as if he would get his worst jar.  He tried to preserve his calm and said with a touch of weariness: 

“Tell me what has happened and keep as near the truth as is possible for you.”

Gerald told him, standing back in the shadow and not pausing to choose his words.  It was an ugly story that could not be toned down and he knew if he stopped he could not go on again.  Although Osborn said nothing, his face got red and the veins on his forehead swelled, and Gerald found his silence strangely daunting.  When the latter stopped, Osborn got up and stood, rather shakily, with his hand clenched.

“Get out of my sight, you despicable thief!” he cried.  “My control is going.  If you stand and fidget there, I’ll knock you down!”

“There wouldn’t be much use in that, although I deserve it,” Gerald replied.  “It’s too late for excuses.  The situation’s dangerous.  You have got to help me out.”

“I can’t help,” said Osborn in a strained, hoarse voice.  “Why didn’t you leave the country instead of coming home?”

Gerald forced a nervous smile.  “The reason ought to be obvious, sir; I might be brought back.  We must get over the need for me to go.  You see, the bill must be met.  If it’s dishonored, everybody who knows us will have something to talk about.”

“I thought you a fool,” said Osborn bitterly.  “You are a fool, but you have a vein of devilish cunning.  You steal and forge; and then expect to shuffle off the consequences on to your relatives!”