He posted his letter, settled himself in a corner of the carriage, and took his second dose of opium.  From that moment he recollected little more.  A confused whirl of hedges and woods, rattling stations, screaming and flashing trains, great red towns, white chalk cuttings; while the everlasting roar and rattle of the carriages shaped themselves in his brain into a hundred snatches of old tunes, all full of a strange merriment, as if mocking at his misery, striving to keep him awake and conscious of who and what he was.  He closed his eyes and shut out the hateful garish world:  but that sound he could not shut out.  Too tired to sleep, too tired even to think, he could do nothing but submit to the ridiculous torment; watching in spite of himself every note, as one jig-tune after another was fiddled by all the imps close to his ear, mile after mile, and county after county, for all that weary day, which seemed full seven years long.

At Euston Square the porter called him several times ere he could rouse him.  He could hear nothing for awhile but that same imps’ melody, even though it had stopped.  At last he got out, staring round him, shook himself awake by one strong effort, and hurried away, not knowing whither he went.

Wrapt up in self, he wandered on till dark, slept on a doorstep, and awoke, not knowing at first where he was.  Gradually all the horror came back to him, and with the horror the craving for opium wherewith to forget it.

He looked round to see his whereabouts.  Surely this must be Golden Square?  A sudden thought struck him.  He went to a chemist’s shop, bought a fresh supply of his poison, and, taking only enough to allay the cravings of his stomach, hurried tottering in the direction of Drury Lane.

CHAPTER XXII.

FOND, YET NOT FOOLISH.

Next morning, only Claude and Campbell made their appearance at breakfast.

Frank came in; found that Valencia was not down:  and, too excited to eat, went out to walk till she should appear.  Neither did Lord Scoutbush come.  Where was he?

Ignorant of the whole matter, he had started at four o’clock to fish in the Traeth Mawr; half for fishing’s sake, half (as he confessed) to gain time for his puzzled brains before those explanations with Frank Headley, of which he stood in mortal fear.

Mellot and Campbell sat down together to breakfast; but in silence.  Claude saw that something had gone very wrong; Campbell ate nothing, and looked nervously out of the window every now and then.

At last Bowie entered with the letters and a message.  There were two gentlemen from Pen-y-gwryd must speak with Mr. Mellot immediately.

He went out and found Wynd and Naylor.  What they told him we know already.  He returned instantly, and met Campbell leaving the room.

“I have news of Vavasour,” whispered he.  “I have a letter from him.  Bowie, order me a car instantly for Bangor.  I am off to London, Claude.  You and Bowie will take care of my things, and send them after me.”