“I can only say that I have not been so unfortunate as to reckon any of those thousands among my friends.”

“You mean to tell me, then, that you are going to turn your back on me?” said Crosbie.

“I haven’t said anything of the kind.  I certainly won’t undertake to defend you, for I don’t see that your conduct admits of defence.  I will see this gentleman if you wish it, and tell him anything that you desire me to tell him.”

At this moment the servant returned with a note for Crosbie.  Mr Dale had called for paper and envelope, and sent up to him the following missive:—­“Do you intend to come down to me?  I know that you are in the house.”  “For heaven’s sake go to him,” said Crosbie.  “He is well aware that I was deceived about his niece,—­that I thought he was to give her some fortune.  He knows all about that, and that when I learned from him that she was to have nothing—­”

“Upon my word, Crosbie, I wish you could find another messenger.”

“Ah! you do not understand,” said Crosbie in his agony.  “You think that I am inventing this plea about her fortune now.  It isn’t so.  He will understand.  We have talked all this over before, and he knew how terribly I was disappointed.  Shall I wait for you here, or will you come to my lodgings?  Or I will go down to the Beaufort, and will wait for you there.”  And it was finally arranged that he should get himself out of this club and wait at the other for Pratt’s report of the interview.

“Do you go down first,” said Crosbie.

“Yes:  I had better,” said Pratt.  “Otherwise you may be seen.  Mr Dale would have his eye upon you, and there would be a row in the house.”  There was a smile of sarcasm on Pratt’s face as he spoke which angered Crosbie even in his misery, and made him long to tell his friend that he would not trouble him with this mission,—­that he would manage his own affairs himself; but he was weakened and mentally humiliated by the sense of his own rascality, and had already lost the power of asserting himself, and of maintaining his ascendancy.  He was beginning to recognise the fact that he had done that for which he must endure to be kicked, to be kicked morally if not materially; and that it was no longer possible for him to hold his head up without shame.

Pratt took Mr Dale’s note in his hand and went down into the stranger’s room.  There he found the squire standing, so that he could see through the open door of the room to the foot of the stairs down which Crosbie must descend before he could leave the club.  As a measure of first precaution the ambassador closed the door; then he bowed to Mr Dale, and asked him if he would take a chair.

“I wanted to see Mr Crosbie,” said the squire.

“I have your note to that gentleman in my hand,” said he.  “He has thought it better that you should have this interview with me;—­and under all the circumstances perhaps it is better.”