"Is that your last word upon the subject," asked Chandos.
Sir William Winslow nodded his head, and answered, slowly and deliberately, "The very last."
"Then there is no resource," said the young gentleman, in a tone more of sadness than irritation; and turning to the door he left the room.
A few steps down the corridor, he found Lockwood and the keeper standing together, silent; but he was too much agitated by all that had taken place to think of the motives which brought them there.
"Come, Lockwood," he said, in a low voice; "it is all in vain. He will yield to no inducements. Where is Faber?"
"Down at my house still," answered Lockwood; "he is not likely to come out, for he is as timid as a hare."
"He had better not see my brother any more till after the trial," answered Chandos. "I must go down and speak with him;" and walking hastily away with Lockwood, he left the Abbey and crossed the park.
When they entered the little front room in Lockwood's house, they found everything exactly as they had left it, except, indeed, that the unsnuffed candles had guttered down nearly into the sockets. When they came to try the inner door, however, in search of Faber, they found it locked; and it was only when the young man heard the voices of Chandos and his half-brother calling to him, that he ventured to speak or come forth. Even then he was in a terrible state of agitation; and his first words were, "Oh, Mr. Winslow, I cannot, I dare not go up to the Abbey, or see your brother."
"I do not think it necessary or right that you should," replied Chandos. "You had better come with me to the little village inn, and go over with me to S---- to-morrow. You can thence write to Sir William, informing him that you have made up your mind to tell the whole truth regarding the will."
"I won't date the letter," said Faber; "and if you stay long at S----, depend upon it he will come over, and find us out."