"No," answered Morley, "no! Whatever I do, I must have time for thought."
Thus saying, he left him, and in the silence and solitude of his own chamber, paced up and down for more than an hour, with the better spirit within him struggling vehemently against the spell, but too weak to cast it off by its own efforts.
"I must fly," he said to himself, at length--"I must fly from this man, or he will destroy me. I will fly speedily, both from him and from the presence of her who has cast away my happiness and her own. To-morrow I will seek for the means, and to-night I will see him no more. I will throw off his dangerous companionship. To avoid evil is the next thing to conquering it."
He opened the door to call his servant Adam Gray; the old man was sitting at the other side of the antechamber, and looking eagerly towards the entrance of his master's room.
"I have knocked twice, sir," he said, "but you did not hear me."
"I was busy with very sad meditations, Adam," replied his master.
"I thought so, sir," answered the old man, simply, "for I saw to-day the person who always causes them--I wish I might say all--"
"Say nothing, my good Adam--say nothing upon that subject," replied Morley.
"No; I must not tell anything now, sir," rejoined Adam Gray, "but the time will come for me to speak."
"You said you knocked," continued Morley, gravely; "what do you want?"