“Yes,” he agreed, and held out his hand.  “And I promise.”

“Good.  And now for the arrangements.”

Two twelve-foot ladders were necessary, one for either side of the wall; but, beyond a short step-ladder, the place possessed none except the long one by which Godfrey and I had mounted into the tree.  Swain suggested that this might do for one, but I felt that it would better stay where it was, and sent Hargis over to Yonkers to buy two new ones, instructing him to bring them back with him.

Then Swain and I reconnoitred the wall, and chose for the crossing a spot where the glass escarpment seemed a little less formidable than elsewhere.

“You can step from one ladder to the other,” I pointed out, “without touching the top of the wall.  A mere touch would be dangerous in the dark.”

He nodded his agreement, and finally we went back to the house.  Getting there, we found suddenly that we had nothing more to say.  Swain was soon deep in his own thoughts; and, I must confess, that, after the first excitement, I began to find the affair a little wearying.  Another man’s love-affair is usually wearying; and, besides that, the glimpse which I had caught of Marjorie Vaughan made me think that she was worthy of a bigger fish than Swain would ever be.  He was right in saying that there were thousands of men who had more to give her, and who would be eager to give.

I examined Swain, as he sat there staring at nothing, with eyes not wholly friendly.  He was handsome enough, but in a stereotyped way.  And he was only an insignificant clerk, with small prospect of ever being anything much better, for he had started the battle of life too late.  Honest, of course, honourable, clean-hearted, but commonplace, with a depth of soul easily fathomed.  I know now that I was unjust to Swain, but, at the moment, my scrutiny of him left me strangely depressed.

A rattle of wheels on the drive brought us both out of our thoughts.  It was Hargis returning with the ladders.  I had him hang them up against the shed where he kept his gardening implements, for I did not wish him to suspect the invasion we had planned; then, just to kill time and get away from Swain, I spent an hour with Hargis in his garden; and finally came the summons to dinner.  An hour later, as we sat on the front porch smoking, and still finding little or nothing to say, Mrs. Hargis came out to bid us good-night.

“Mr. Swain can use the bedroom next to yours, Mr. Lester,” she said.

“Perhaps he won’t stay all night,” I said.  “If he does, I’ll show him the way to it.  And thank you very much, Mrs. Hargis.”

“Is there anything else I can do, sir?”

“No, thank you.”

“Mr. Godfrey will be here a little before midnight—­at least, that’s his usual time.”

“We’ll wait up for him,” I said.  “Good night, Mrs. Hargis.”

“Good night, sir,” and she went back into the house.