"Tom, I am not coming in. I shall take a long walk and a bathe to get this fearful night out of my head. You can take the money upstairs, and put it away somewhere in hiding. Stay, I will keep a coin or two. Take the rest with you."
Tom looked up at the gleam of sunshine that touched the chimney-pots above, and decided.
"Well, for my part, I am going to bed; and so will you if you are wise."
"No. I will be back this evening, so let the fatted calf be prepared. I must get out of this for a while."
"Where are you going?"
"Oh, anywhere. I don't care. Up the river, perhaps."
"You don't wish me to go with you?"
"No, I had rather be alone. Tom, I have been a fool. I led you into a hole whence nothing but a marvellous chance has delivered us, and I owe you an apology. And—Tom, I also owe you my life."
"Not to me, Jasper; to the Clasp."
"To you," I insisted. "Tom, I have been a thoughtless fool, and— Tom, that was a splendid blow of yours."