“You don’t think so!” interrupted Will, contemptuously.  “If there’s any doubt we know on which side it weighs.  Just tell me the facts.  What was the security?”

Sherwood replied with a brief, clear, and obviously honest account of the speculation into which he had been drawn.  To the listener it seemed astounding that any responsible man should be lured by such gambler’s chance; he could hardly find patience to point out the manifest risks so desperately incurred.  And Sherwood admitted the full extent of his folly; he could only repeat that he had acted on an irresistible impulse, to be explained, though not defended, by the embarrassment in which he found himself.

“Thank Heaven, this is over!” he exclaimed at last, passing his handkerchief over a moist forehead.  “I don’t know how I got through last night.  More than once, I thought it would be easier to kill myself than to come and face you.  But there was the certainty that I could make good your loss.  I may be able to do so very soon.  I’ve written to—­”

He checked himself on the point of uttering a name; then with eyes down, reflected for a moment.

“No; I haven’t the right to tell you, though I should like to, to give you confidence.  It’s the story of the ten thousand pounds, you remember?  When I lent that money, I promised never to let any one know.  Even if I can’t realise your capital at once, I can pay you good interest until the money’s forthcoming.  That would be the same thing to you?”

Warburton gave him a keen look, and said gravely—­

“Let’s understand each other, Sherwood.  Have you any income at all?”

“None whatever now, except the interest on the ten thousand; and that—­well, I’m sorry to say it hasn’t been paid very regularly.  But in future it must be—­it shall be.  Between two and three thousand are owing to me for arrears.”

“It’s a queer story.”

“I know it is,” admitted Godfrey.  “But I hope you don’t doubt my word?”

“No, I don’t—­What’s to be done about Applegarth?”

“I must see him,” replied Sherwood with a groan.  “Of course you have no part in the miserable business.  I must write at once, and then go and face him.”

“Of course I shall go with you.”

“You will?  That’s kind of you.  Luckily he’s a civilised man, not one of the City brutes one might have had to deal with.”

“We must hope he’ll live up to his reputation,” said Warburton, with the first smile, and that no cheery one, which had risen to his lips during this interview.