In the study he had left but a few minutes since slept a man who, in a certain sense, claimed comradeship with him, a man whom he had championed and set free, a self-confessed murderer, a wretch so vile that he had fled from him in horror at the act he had himself accomplished.
And in the open air, upon a hill, a hundred yards from the House of White Shadows, lay John Vanbrugh, a friend of his youth, a man disgraced by his career, watching for the signal which would warrant him in coming forward and divulging what was in his mind. If what John Vanbrugh had disclosed in his mutterings during his lonely watch was true, he held in his hands the key to a mystery, which, revealed, would overwhelm the Advocate with shame and infamy.
Thus was he threatened on all sides by friend and foe alike.
CHAPTER XI
[A CRISIS]
"Have I disturbed you, Christian?" asked the Advocate, entering the room. "I hesitated a moment or two, hearing no sound, but seeing your lamp was lighted, I thought you were up, and might be expecting me."
"I had an idea you would come," said Almer, with a feeling of relief at the Advocate's statement that he had heard no sound; and then he said, so that he might be certain of his ground, "You have not been to my room before to-night?"
"No; for the last two hours I have not left my study. Half an hour's converse with you will do me good. I am terribly jaded."
"The reaction of the excitement of the long trial in which you have been engaged."
"Probably; though I have endured fatigue as great without feeling as jaded as I do now."