“Let’s have the dog in,” urged one of the group.

“Without Byng’s permission?” interjected Wallstein.

There was a silence.  The last time any of them, except Wallstein, had seen Byng, was on the evening when he had overheard the slanders concerning Jasmine, and none had pleasant anticipation of this meeting with him now.  They recalled his departure when Barry Whalen had said, “God, how he hates us.”  He was not likely to hate them less, when they proved that Fellowes and Krool had betrayed him and them all.  They had a wholesome fear of him in more senses than one, because, during the past few years, while Wallstein’s health was bad, Byng’s position had become more powerful financially, and he could ruin any one of them, if he chose.  A man like Byng in “going large” might do the Samson business.  Besides, he had grown strangely uncertain in his temper of late, and, as Barry Whalen had said, “It isn’t good to trouble a wounded bull in the ring.”

They had him on the hip in one way through the exposure of Krool, but they were all more or less dependent on his financial movements.  They were all enraged at Byng because he had disregarded all warnings regarding Krool; but what could they do?  Instinctively they turned now to Stafford, whose reputation for brains and diplomacy was so great and whose friendship with Byng was so close.

Stafford had come to-day for two reasons:  to do what he could to help Byng—­for the last time; and to say to Byng that they could not travel together to South Africa.  To make the long journey with him was beyond his endurance.  He must put the world between Rudyard and himself; he must efface all companionship.  With this last act, begotten of the blind confidence Rudyard had in him, their intercourse must cease forever.  This would be easy enough in South Africa.  Once at the Front, it was as sure as anything on earth that they would never meet again.  It was torture to meet him, and the day of the inquest, when Byng had come to his rooms after his interview with Lady Tynemouth and Mr. Mappin, he had been tried beyond endurance.

“Shall we have Krool in without Byng’s permission?  Is it wise?” asked Wallstein again.  He looked at Stafford, and Stafford instantly replied: 

“It would be well to see Krool, I think.  Your action could then be decided by Krool’s attitude and what he says.”

Barry Whalen rang the bell, and the footman came.  After a brief waiting Krool entered the room with irritating deliberation and closed the door behind him.

He looked at no one, but stood contemplating space with a composure which made Barry Whalen almost jump from his seat in rage.

“Come a little closer,” said Wallstein in a soothing voice, but so Wallstein would have spoken to a man he was about to disembowel.

Krool came nearer, and now he looked round at them all slowly and inquiringly.  As no one spoke for a moment he shrugged his shoulders.