“Both of them must be confoundedly hard hit,” he murmured to himself; “I never knew Densham turn nasty before.” And to his coachman he said aloud, “You may go home, Dawson. I am going to walk.”
He turned on to the embankment, conscious of a curious sense of exhilaration. He was no blasé cynic; but the uniformly easy life tends to become just a trifle monotonous, and Lord Wolfenden’s somewhat epicurean mind derived actual pleasure from the subtle luxury of a new sensation. What he had said of his friends he could have said with equal truth of himself: he was confoundedly hard hit. For the first time in his life he found the mere memory of a woman thrilling; his whole nature vibrated in response to the appeal she made to him, and he walked along buoyantly under the stars, revelling in the delight of being alive.
Suddenly he stopped abruptly. Huddled up in the corner of a seat was a man with a cloth cap pulled forward screening his face: at that moment Lord Wolfenden was in a mood to be extravagantly generous to any poor applicant for alms, lavishly sympathetic to any tale of distress. But it was not ordinary curiosity that arrested his progress now. He knew almost at the first glance who it was that sat in this dejected attitude, although the opera hat was replaced by the soft cloth cap, and in other details the man’s appearance was altered. It was indeed the Mr. Felix who had supped with him at the “Milan” and subsequently behaved in so astonishing a fashion.
He knew that he was recognised, and sat up, looking steadfastly at Wolfenden, although his lips trembled and his eyes gleamed wildly. Across his temples a bright red mark was scored.
Lord Wolfenden broke the silence.
“You’re a nice sort of fellow to ask out to supper! What in the name of all that’s wonderful were you trying to do?”
“I should have thought it was sufficiently obvious,” the man replied bitterly. “I tried to kill him, and I failed. Well, why don’t you call the police? I am quite ready. I shall not run again.”
Wolfenden hesitated, and then sat down by the side of this surprising individual.
“The man you went for didn’t seem to care, so I don’t see why I should. But why do you want to kill him?”
“To keep a vow,” the other answered; “how and why made I will not tell you.”