Surface’s face became agitated.  “I believe there is nothing else in the world—­that I wouldn’t do for you—­a thousand times over—­but—­”

Then Queed threw the last thing that he had to offer into the scales, namely himself.  He leaned over the table and fixed the old man with imploring eyes.

“I’d do my best to make it up to you.  I’ll—­I’ll live with you till one or the other of us dies.  You’ll have somebody to take care of you when you are old, and there will never be any talk of the poorhouse between you and me.  It can all be arranged quietly through a lawyer, Professor—­and nobody will guess your secret.  You and I will find quiet lodgings somewhere, and live together—­as friends—­live cleanly, honorably, honestly—­”

“For God’s sake, stop!” said Surface, in a broken-voice.  “This is more than I can bear.”

So Queed knew that it was hopeless, and that the old man meant to cling to his dishonored money, and let his friend go.  He sank back in his chair, sick at heart, and a painful silence fell.

“If I refuse,” Surface took up the theme, “it is for your sake as well as mine.  My boy, you don’t know what you ask.  It is charity, mere mad charity to people whom I have no love for, who—­”

“Then,” said Queed, “two things must happen.  First, I must lay the facts before Miss Weyland.”

Surface’s manner changed; his eyes became unpleasant.

“You are not serious.  You can hardly mean to repeat to anybody what I have told you in sacred confidence.”

Queed smiled sadly.  “No, you have not told me anything in confidence.  You have never told me anything until I first found it out for myself, and then only because denial was useless.”

“When I told you my story last June, you assured me—­”

“However, you have just admitted that what you told me last June was not the truth.”

Again their eyes clashed, and Surface, whose face was slowly losing all its color, even the sallowness, found no sign of yielding in those of the younger man.

Queed resumed:  “However, I do not mean that I shall tell her who you are, unless you yourself compel me to.  I shall simply let her know that you are known to be alive, within reach of the courts, and in possession of a certain sum of money withheld from the trustee funds.  This will enable her to take the matter up with her lawyers and, as I believe, bring it before the courts.  If her claim is sustained, she would doubtless give you the opportunity to make restitution through intermediaries, and thus sensational disclosures might be avoided.  However, I make you no promises about that.”

Surface drew a breath; he permitted his face to show signs of relief.  “Since my argument and knowledge carry so little weight with you,” he said with a fine air of dignity, “I am willing to let the courts convince you, if you insist.  But I do beg—­”

Queed cut him short; he felt that he could not bear one of the old man’s grandiloquent speeches now.  “There is one other thing that must be mentioned,” he said in a tired voice.  “You understand, of course, that I can live here no longer.”