“I see,” commented Drishna, with a short laugh and a gleaming eye.  “Shoot myself and hush it up to suit your purpose.  Withhold my message to save the exposures of a trial, and keep the flame from the torch of insurrectionary freedom.”

“Also,” interposed Carrados mildly, “to save your worthy people a good deal of shame, and to save the lady who is nameless the unpleasant necessity of relinquishing the house and the income which you have just settled on her.  She certainly would not then venerate your memory.”

“What is that?”

“The transaction which you carried through was based on a felony and could not be upheld.  The firm you dealt with will go to the courts, and the money, being directly traceable, will be held forfeit as no good consideration passed.”

“Max!” cried Mr. Carlyle hotly, “you are not going to let this scoundrel cheat the gallows after all?”

“The best use you can make of the gallows is to cheat it, Louis,” replied Carrados.  “Have you ever reflected what human beings will think of us a hundred years hence?”

“Oh, of course I’m not really in favour of hanging,” admitted Mr. Carlyle.

“Nobody really is.  But we go on hanging.  Mr. Drishna is a dangerous animal who for the sake of pacific animals must cease to exist.  Let his barbarous exploit pass into oblivion with him.  The disadvantages of spreading it broadcast immeasurably outweigh the benefits.”

“I have considered,” announced Drishna.  “I will do as you wish.”

“Very well,” said Carrados.  “Here is some plain notepaper.  You had better write a letter to someone saying that the financial difficulties in which you are involved make life unbearable.”

“But there are no financial difficulties—­now.”

“That does not matter in the least.  It will be put down to an hallucination and taken as showing the state of your mind.”

“But what guarantee have we that he will not escape?” whispered Mr. Carlyle.

“He cannot escape,” replied Carrados tranquilly.  “His identity is too clear.”

“I have no intention of trying to escape,” put in Drishna, as he wrote.  “You hardly imagine that I have not considered this eventuality, do you?”

“All the same,” murmured the ex-lawyer, “I should like to have a jury behind me.  It is one thing to execute a man morally; it is another to do it almost literally.”

“Is that all right?” asked Drishna, passing across the letter he had written.

Carrados smiled at this tribute to his perception.

“Quite excellent,” he replied courteously.  “There is a train at nine-forty.  Will that suit you?”

Drishna nodded and stood up.  Mr. Carlyle had a very uneasy feeling that he ought to do something but could not suggest to himself what.

The next moment he heard his friend heartily thanking the visitor for the assistance he had been in the matter of the Indo-Scythian inscription, as they walked across the hall together.  Then a door closed.